


Unexpected

by KabiViolet



Category: Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Drama, F/M, Family Secrets, Grey Wardens, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-13
Updated: 2015-03-15
Packaged: 2018-02-04 13:31:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 32,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1780858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KabiViolet/pseuds/KabiViolet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Two elven sisters, twin daughters of a Dalish mother and a Denerim alienage father, were separated by the Chantry and the boundaries set by the humans who rule Ferelden. Both sisters jumped at the chance to join the Grey Wardens and escape the fates their places in society had dealt them. </p>
<p>Reunited after years of secrets and hardship, they embarked together on a journey that would change each of them, and those they loved most, in very unexpected ways.</p>
<p>A slightly AU Dragon Age: Origins story filled with drama, adventure, family secrets, and romance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Although I've dabbled in shorter pieces in the Dragon Age universe before, this is my first attempt at a larger piece in this fandom. Thank you for reading, and hopefully I haven't bitten off more than I can chew. :)
> 
> You will also find this piece on ff.net under the same author and title.
> 
>  
> 
> Special thanks to my wonderful beta for this piece, [Mordinette](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Mordinette/profile). She's an absolutely fantastic writer, and she has been a great support and help to me with many of my works.
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: Dragon Age and its characters belong to BioWare. I write for fun when real life gives me a bit of a break.

_9:17 Dragon_

 

_“Mamae, tell us another story before you blow out the light.”_

_“Miriel, I’ve already told you two stories,” her mother said as the dim candlelight flashed across her half-smile. “You’re just stalling because you don’t want to go to sleep.”_

_“No, Mamae, I just like your stories.” Miriel snuggled up to her mother as the older elf returned to her perch on the side of the bed and Miriel’s sister curled up against Miriel’s back._

_“Alright, one more. But it’s a short one,” the girls’ mother replied with a smile, looking up to wave a hand of acknowledgement at their father, who had appeared just around the corner with a questioning look on his face._

_“Adaia, are you --” he began, but was quickly interrupted by Adaia’s gesture._

_“I’ll be coming to bed in a minute, Cyrion. Just one more story.”_

_At that response, Cyrion returned his wife’s smile and retreated out of sight to their own bed._

_“What’s it about, Mamae?”_

_“Hmmm?”_

_“The story.”_

_“Oh, yes. It’s about your father.”_

_“About Papa?”_

_“Yes.”_

_“Why are you telling us a story about Papa?”_

_“Perhaps you should just listen and find out, da’len. Are you going to let me tell the story or not?”_

_The two sisters were silent, their eyes staring up expectantly at their mother in the dim candlelight. When she was sure the girls were truly settled, Adaia began her tale._

_“Many years ago, I was hunting in the woods near the city.”_

_“Because you were not born in an alienage, right, Mamae?”_

_“That’s right. I was not. But your father was. On this particular day, he had gone beyond the walls of the city to fetch water for his master.”_

_“Who did Papa work for?”_

_“That is not an important part of the story. You have to let me tell it, da’len, or I will not finish it and you will have to go to bed without hearing how the story ends.”_

_“Quiet, Miri. Let Mamae tell the story,” Miriel’s sister chided from behind her._

_“I’m sorry, Mamae. Please finish the story. I will be good.” Miriel curled up closer to her mother, who stroked her daughter’s strawberry gold locks in return._

_“Now, I had been traveling and hunting nearby. I had often come to the same place in search of food, but I had never seen a city elf in those parts before -- and I had definitely never seen one as handsome as your father.”_

_“You thought Papa was handsome?” Miriel couldn’t help but giggle. She heard her sister do the same next to her in the bed they shared._

_“Yes. Very much so. We were very different, of course, since he had grown up in Denerim and I had grown up in the forest. But when I saw him that first time, I knew there was something different about him -- something unlike any of the elves I knew in my clan and definitely not what I expected from a city elf.”_

_“What do you mean? How was Papa different?”_

_“Well, first of all, most city elves would not venture that far from the safety of the city alone. I was intrigued that he would travel so far on his own. I learned later that he didn’t have to go that far for water. He just liked to get away from the city when he could, much like I enjoyed hunting on my own and traveling in places that other Dalish elves wouldn’t go.”_

_Adaia’s eyes took on a far-away look for several seconds, but the wiggling figures of her two daughters brought her attention back to the present._

_“But that is beside the point. The reason I kept coming back to see him was more than that…” Adaia paused for a minute and looked toward the candlelight, her face softening. “There was something in his face -- a kindness I had not seen in any other elf’s face before. It was because of this look, this aura of_ goodness _about him that I came back day after day to see him, hoping he would return.”_

_“And did he?” Miriel asked expectantly._

_Adaia nodded with a gentle grin._

_“He did, da’len.”_

_“Did you go talk to him?”_

_“Not at first.”_

_“Why not?”_

_“Miri…” her sister protested again._

_“You’ve forgotten the rules already,” Adaia said with a smile. “I thought I was the one telling this story. I’m starting to believe that you just wanted another story to postpone sleeping.” Miriel quickly clamped her mouth shut and curled up under the covers. Her mother gently smiled down at her before continuing. “But to answer your question, I was too scared to talk to him. I thought he would run from me or that he would tell the humans of the city where I was hiding and hunting. I was afraid that they might look for me and bring me back to Denerim against my will. You see, I didn’t understand much about how the city elves lived then. Much has changed since those days…”_

_Adaia trailed off again and stared at the candle as it flickered in the dark. Miriel was quiet for a few moments. Her mother’s face looked sad, as if she longed for something, but Miriel soon squirmed as she lost patience in the silence._

_“So what happened next, Mamae?”_

_“Oh, yes,” Adaia turned back to her daughters and smiled as she tucked the covers tightly around their small bodies. “After days of watching your father come and go, I had decided that I needed to say something or forget all about him. I had just gotten up the nerve to leave my hiding place and approach him when a huge bear came bounding out of the forest, running for your father at full tilt!”_

_“Oh no! What did you do?!”_

_“Your father was unarmed and looked very frightened. He dropped everything he had been carrying and began to run for the city, but I could see that the bear was going to catch him eventually. I knew I had to do something, so I pulled an arrow from my quiver and nocked it in my bow, just like I’ve been teaching the two of you to do.”_

_“And the bear was still chasing Papa?”_

_“Yes, it was, but then something horrible happened. Your father tripped on a tree root and fell. The bear was nearly on top of him. It pulled back on its hind legs and I thought for sure that it would kill him._

_“But it didn’t! You saved Papa, didn’t you, Mamae?”_

_“I’m getting there, da’len. Be patient. I knew the only way I could save your father was if I calmed down and slowed my breathing, like I have taught you when you practice with your bow. You see, I felt something I had never felt before when the bear appeared.”_

_Adaia paused again and looked in the direction her husband had disappeared as a slow smile spread across her face._

_“My heart began to race and my stomach felt like it dropped all the way to the ground, I was so afraid for him. Although we had not yet met, I knew in that moment that there was something special about the way I felt for your father. I realized then that I would do whatever I could to save him. So I willed my breathing to slow and exhaled deeply as I let the arrow fly. And it flew straight and true, right where I had aimed.”_

_“In the bear’s heart?! You killed it?”_

_“Not right away. I knew I couldn’t take down such a large animal in one shot, so I aimed for the pit of its arm, weakening it and drawing its attention away from your father on the ground. When it came running for me, my heartbeat calmed because I knew your father was out of danger. I loosed arrow after arrow until it finally fell dead at my feet.”_

_“And Papa?”_

_“He was just fine. A bit frightened, but uninjured.”_

_“And that’s how you met Papa?”_

_“Yes, for better or for worse, that bear is what finally gave me the courage to speak to your father. And that’s the end of your third story for the night, da’len. Now you must go to sleep.”_

_Without letting either of them protest, Adaia bent down and kissed each of her daughters on the forehead before blowing out the candle. She turned to leave, but just before she rounded the corner to where Cyrion waited for her, Miriel stopped her mother with another question._

_“Mamae?”_

_“Hmm?”_

_“That feeling you had when the bear appeared -- when your stomach felt like it dropped and your heart beat faster -- what was it?”_

_“That, da’len, is love.”_

_“Like the way I love you, Mamae?”_

_“No, dear one, a very different kind of love. The kind of love that I hope you will have someday when you are grown.”_

_“How will I know when I feel it? Will it feel the same for me?”_

_“I don’t know that it will happen for you in exactly the same way it did for me. In fact, I hope it doesn’t, because I never want you to be in danger as your father and I were that day.” Adaia paused before she continued, carefully considering how to phrase her next words. “But if there is ever a time when you meet someone that you would do anything for, and not because it is your duty but because you couldn’t stand the thought of that person being hurt, then you will know you are in love. And if that person would do the same for you in return, well, then the two of you should stick together no matter the cost, because love like that is a rare and beautiful thing.”_

_“Good night, Mamae.”_

_“Good night, children. I love you both.”_


	2. A Day to Start Over

_24 Varimensis 9:30 Dragon_

 

“Wake up, cousin! Why are you still in bed? It’s your big day!”

Miriel’s head was pounding as she slowly opened her eyes. The light was so bright. Why, oh why did she let Shianni talk her into drinking the night before? Yes, it was a big day, and yes, she had wanted to celebrate, but the amount of cheap ale she had consumed was perhaps not such a good idea in hindsight.

While thinking of Shianni, Miriel glared at her cousin standing over her. How could she be so cheerful at this hour? Wasn’t her skull being beat in with a hammer, too?

“Of all the blasted--What?...Why are you in my room, Shianni?” Miriel mumbled as she sat up painfully.

“You _do_ remember what today is, don’t you?” Shianni grinned.

“Of course I do,” Miriel replied, leaning over to cradle her aching head in her hands. “But I didn’t plan to be awakened so early...and with such a bright light.”

“Cousin, it’s not that early.”

“Shhhh….don’t be so loud, Shianni. You’re yelling.”

Shianni laughed at her then and the sound was as if all the trumpets in Ferelden blared in her ears simultaneously. Groaning, Miriel lay back down on the bed and covered her eyes.

“Here,” Shianni said, softer this time as she handed Miriel a cup of something hot. “Drink this. It will make you feel better.”

Grunting with annoyance, Miriel did as she was told. Thankfully, she did feel better after a few sips of the steaming drink.

“Is this what made you so chipper this morning?” she asked when she felt a bit more herself.

“Partly, yes,” Shianni replied. “But it’s also partly because of the wedding! You and cousin Soris. This is such an exciting day! And I met your groom, Nelaros. He’s here early, and I think you will like him.”

“Really?” Miriel said, finally feeling well enough to stand without the room swirling around her. “That’s good to hear...the sooner the better, I guess.”

“I know! You’re so lucky!” Shianni exclaimed, but then she paused. “Wait...are you being serious? Or are you just making fun of me? I know that this isn’t necessarily the wedding you had always hoped for...”

Miriel sighed as she turned her back on her cousin, pulling her sleep shirt over her head and discarding it on the bed. She looked for the clothes she had laid out the night before and reached for the lovely garments she would wear today -- her mother’s wedding clothes. She understood her cousin’s confusion. They had talked so often of one day falling in love -- a love like the one Cyrion and Adaia had found. A love that was not the product of conspiring parents and an arranged ceremony. She knew that to Shianni it seemed strange for Miriel to seem satisfied in marrying an elf she had never met, but as she had told Shianni before, she was sincere in her resolve.

“Shianni, I’ve already told you and I meant it,” Miriel began, “I’m truly content with this. You know I don’t fit in here. My mother’s training hasn’t helped father much as he has aged. At least in this way, I can contribute to our family. If this will make father happy, then I will do it gladly. He deserves some peace after…” she paused, searching for the right words with a sigh and reaching behind her for the clasp of the dress at the nape of her neck, “after all that has happened.”

Shianni quickly sprung into action and helped her secure the final hook. Miriel turned around to face her cousin with a grateful smile and said, “And from everything I’ve been told by people I love and trust, Nelaros is a good match. A kind and noble elf.”

“And handsome, too,” Shianni grinned as Miriel turned around, fully dressed.

“You think so?” Miriel asked but regretted her words as soon as she said them. She didn’t mean to sound shallow and superficial. “Not that it’s important really, it just would be nice if--”

“Trust me, cousin. I met him. You know I would tell you if it were otherwise and try to talk you out of this, but I’m not. I really do think you will like him and for more than his looks.”

Miriel had no response to that and simply smiled at the bright-faced, red-headed girl who had been her best friend since her first friend--her twin sister--was so abruptly taken from her many years ago. She tried not to think on that subject. This was a happy day -- a day where she could begin the rest of her life, not dwell on painful memories of the past. This was a day to start over, to make vows, to mark the path that would be the rest of her life -- her _own_ life. Despite all that she had put her father through over the years, she could do this one thing for him and do it well.

“All right, I’ll stop tormenting you,” Shianni grinned after she helped straighten out any wrinkles that had formed in the wedding clothes overnight. “I should go talk to the other bridesmaids and find my dress.” She turned to go and then whipped her head back around to face Miriel. “Oh! Soris said that he’ll be waiting for you outside. So move it!”

Finally, Miriel found herself alone. With Shianni gone, she walked toward the small mirror over the washstand in the corner. She reached for her comb and ran it through her tangled locks. Grabbing a pinch of mint leaf, she threw it on her tongue. It would not do to meet her betrothed still smelling like the festivities of the previous night. She threw some water on her face and pinched her cheeks, tracing absent-mindedly over the pale blue tattoo on her face.

Odd flashes of memory flitted through her mind as she recalled the day she, along with her sister, had received the markings that her mother had called the _vallaslin_. It had been a strange day--rushed and full of secrets--and she could only recall bits and pieces of the ceremony. An elf whose face was covered in tattoos bending over her while murmuring softly. Her mother’s hurried and nervous tones. Her father’s protestations. Her sister’s resolute eyes, giving her strength when she was afraid.

Miriel shook her head to rid herself of the confusing memories. With her sister and mother gone, Miriel was the only elf in the alienage to wear such a mark now and she wore it proudly, like her mother before her. But she reminded herself again that today was not a day to dwell on the past. Today was about the future. _Her_ future.

As she spun around, she heard the door to the house open and close. Miriel did not try to hide the smile on her face when she saw her father walk through the entryway.

“Ah, my little girl,” he said as he walked into the room and embraced her. “It’s...the last day I’ll be able to call you that. How I wish your mother...and your sister...could have been here.”

“Well, if my sister were still alive, you would have had to find two suitable grooms instead of one.” Miriel grinned in response.

“Too true,” Cyrion replied. “And it was hard enough to find someone good enough for _one_ of my girls.”

Miriel hated the pained look that passed over her father’s tired face whenever he spoke of her mother and sister. She was sorry she had brought them up at all. She quickly scrambled to change the subject.

“Well, you’ve got this day all planned out for me. What should I be doing?” she asked. To her surprise, her father seemed hesitant. His brow furrowed as he gripped her arms gently, just above her elbows.

“Miriel, I love you, you know that,” he began. “You don’t have to do this for me. I just...want you to be happy. It’s time you moved on in life. You can’t be caring for your father all your days. You should be your own woman, have your own family, make your own way in the world.”

Miriel stifled the words she wanted to say to her father. _If you really wanted me to be happy, you wouldn’t seem so disappointed that I couldn’t find a husband on my own. You would let me live my life the way I want to, not the way_ you _want me to._

“Papa, I know,” Miriel interrupted him with a sigh, raising a hand in protest. “And I _want_ to do this. This is a good thing for me. For us.”

When her father remained silent, Miriel decided she had to say more to reassure him. No, this was not necessarily what she wanted for her own life, but she did want her father to be happy.

“I’m ready for this day and have been for a while, Papa. Like you said, it’s time for me to make my own life.”

Finally, Cyrion’s face softened and he released her.

“All right, time for you to find Soris,” he said. “The sooner this wedding starts, the less chance you two have to escape.” He chuckled as Miriel gripped his arm while walking past him to the door.

“Don’t worry. I’ll be fine,” she whispered, kissing him lightly on the cheek before exiting the house that had been her home all her life.

“Oh, one last thing before you go, my dear,” Cyrion stopped her in the doorway. “Your martial training...the swordplay, knives, and whatever else your mother trained you in… Best not to mention it to your betrothed.”

That was the first upsetting thing that anyone had said to her that morning. She felt a bit of her younger, more rebellious self rising in her throat, but she clamped it down.

Her mother had been a skilled rogue. Cyrion had never approved of Adaia teaching Miriel--and her sister before she died--how to hold a knife or nock a bow, but Miriel had loved it. She wanted to do everything just like her mother. She wanted to _be_ her mother. But this one thing was something Cyrion had hidden from the rest of the alienage as long as he could. Try as he might, however, it was inevitable that people noticed. By now, everyone knew that Miriel had some talent with a bow, but other than her father, her cousins, and a few other close family members, no one knew _how_ skilled a marksman Miriel truly was, and Cyrion had fought hard to keep it that way.

_“If they find out, the humans will take you away,”_ he always warned her. _“They would never let you stay here. They would kill you. You are too much of a threat to them.”_

And Miriel had always done as her father had commanded. It hadn’t hurt Cyrion’s cause that Adaia had agreed with her husband’s logic, thinking it best to train Miriel from the time she could wield a sword but simultaneously telling her to keep her gifts guarded.

“It’s not that important, anyhow,” Miriel said, turning away.

“We don’t want to seem like troublemakers, after all. Adaia made that mistake.”

“I know very well what mistake was made, Papa,” Miriel grit her teeth, remembering the scene of her mother’s death at the hands of a human soldier. She would believe until the day she died that it was not her mother’s mistake but the mistake of the soldiers who had invaded the alienage with unsavory intentions for the last time. Adaia’s Dalish spirit could stand the injustice no longer and she had paid for that decision with her life. It still made Miriel’s blood curl just to think of it, and amidst his pain, Cyrion had used the experience as a case in point for Miriel--a way of showing her why her skills and talents must be kept secret.

“Let’s just get on with this, shall we?” she finally said, pulling herself out of her memories and away from her father’s stern gaze.

“Go on, then,” Cyrion waved a hand at her. “I still have some things to do, and Soris is no doubt waiting for you.”

It took her a while after exiting the homestead, but eventually she found Soris, lurking by a tree while shifting nervously from foot to foot. If this day didn’t also decide the rest of her own life, Miriel might have been more amused at her cousin’s agitated state.

“Well, if it isn’t my lucky cousin,” Soris said when he saw Miriel approach. “Care to celebrate the end of our independence together?”

He joked and teased and avoided the subject as much as possible, but Miriel knew better than to take him seriously. She could see he was just a bundle of nerves.

“Don’t worry, Soris. It’ll be fine.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” he replied. “Apparently, your groom’s a dream come true. My bride sounds like a dying mouse.”

“I’m sure she’s quite nice,” Miriel tried to reassure her cousin.

“Great. I’ll spend the next fifty years with a ‘nice’ girl who hides grain away for the winter.” Soris shook his head and sighed. “Let’s go introduce you to your dreamy betrothed before you say ‘I do.’”

Miriel nudged Soris’ shoulder as they walked together. He talked a big talk, but she knew he was excited. Always awkward around girls, Soris was looking forward to this arranged marriage, despite all the jokes and sarcastic remarks. They had both been waiting for this day for a long time, and if there was anyone other than her late sister that she would have wanted to have a double wedding with, it would have been one of her cousins, either Soris or Shianni.

But her excitement abated as they rounded the _vhenadahl_. She noticed that Soris sped up to match her pace as the two of them ran to the scene unfolding before their eyes.

_Not today_ , she thought as she approached a crowd of elfmaids being assaulted and taunted by a group of human strangers. _Please not today…_

“Let go of me! Stop! Please!” Carwyl cried as a fair-haired human grabbed her from behind.

“It’s a party, isn’t it?” the man said, his low voice hissing through the air like a snake’s tongue. Miriel felt her hair stand on end as he continued. “Grab a whore and have a good time.”

She wanted so badly to say something, to do something, but her father’s words from earlier and her mother’s memory stayed her hand. She resolved to be silent and keep low as long as she could. Hopefully, the humans were just here to tease and then they would go back to the place they came from, leaving the elves of the alienage unharmed. Besides, she was unarmed. There was nothing else she could do without risking her cover, and potentially, her life.

“Savor the hunt, boys,” the human continued. “Take this little elf wench, here… so young and vulnerable…”

Miriel’s stomach turned as she watched the disgusting human stare Shianni up and down, but it turned even more when she saw Shianni open her mouth to respond. She didn’t have time to intervene before her cousin sparked the fire.

“Touch me and I’ll gut you, you pig!”

_Shianni, no!_ , Miriel silently screamed, only holding herself back by remembering her father’s words of caution.

“Please, my Lord,” Durlan said at her cousin’s side. “We’re celebrating weddings here.”

Miriel clenched and unclenched her fists, struggling to keep herself in check as she watched the human walk towards Shianni and her defender. Every nerve in her body was on edge. It took all of Miriel’s willpower to stop from running at the man and breaking his neck.

“Silence, worm!” he shouted before he backhanded Shianni’s well-meaning friend.

But it was Soris’ whisper that startled her nearby.

“I know what you’re thinking, but maybe we shouldn’t get involved,” he said.

“You should know better than to say that to me. Shianni will get herself killed,” she whispered back.

“Fine, but let’s try to be diplomatic, shall we?”

With a nod, Miriel began to walk purposefully toward the human. As she had hoped, she caught his eye.

“What’s this?” he said. “Another lovely one come to keep me company?

With Soris’ plea in mind, Miriel asked, “Let’s just talk this over, shall we?”

“Maybe you should invite it over for dinner!” laughed another human nearby.

_It_. Miriel flinched as the human used the indescript pronoun to describe her, as if she wasn’t a real being with a name, an identity, a family. Her nails dug into her palms as she fought back the urge to pummel every last one of the men who had invaded the alienage.

The blonde human joined in the laughter and turned back to face her.

“Do you have any idea who I am?” he asked. It was then that Miriel realized she had been too distracted by her anger. She hadn’t noticed what Shianni had run off to do behind the crowd of humans. Before Miriel could say anything, Shianni suddenly appeared behind the blonde human. He turned around at the new noise, and before he or Miriel could react, Shianni broke a glass jug over his head.

The sound of the human’s body hitting the ground was like a death knell.

“Are you insane?” another human said as he walked over to his friend. “This is Vaughan Urien, the arl of Denerim’s son!”

“W-What?” Shianni gasped, covering her face with her hands in disbelief. “Oh...Maker…”

“Take him home,” Miriel stepped purposefully between Shianni and the man, daring them to make a move toward her cousin. “If you don’t mention this, we won’t.”

“You’ve a lot of nerve, knife ears,” said another human from the pack. Miriel felt her eyelid twitch at the man’s use of the slur, but she held her ground as he backed away. “This’ll go badly for you.”

This would have been the perfect time to display her skills. A few years ago, she would have, but her mother’s death had wisened all of the elves in the Denerim alienage, including Miriel.

No, she would not risk it. Not today. Not when so many people were depending on her and not when she was so defenseless in wedding clothes with no weapon. She had made a promise to her father that she would keep. Besides, the humans were leaving. Clearly, they were not fond of the elves they had met today, but if the humans left, then the threat was averted. There was no reason to put all their lives in danger after the crisis was over simply because she wanted to make a point.

But as she watched the men collect the arl’s son and carry him from the alienage, eyeing her from top to bottom as they passed, Miriel had a sinking feeling that this was not the last she would see of Vaughan Urien and his group of spineless followers. She could only hope that the next time they met, she did not have a reason to spare their lives.


	3. Beyond the Flames

_1 Pluitanis 9:30 Dragon_

 

_“Tamryn! Are you in there?! Please answer me!”_

_Her mother’s voice. It was always the same._

_“Mamae? I’m in here! Mamae!”_

_The flames swirled around her, scorching her skirts and eyebrows. She didn’t understand what was going on or what had caused this, but despite the danger of the heat surrounding her tiny body, she knew she had to make her way to her mother’s voice._

_“I’m trying to find you,_ da’len _. Come to me if you can.”_

_“I’m coming, Mamae! I’m coming!”_

_She coughed and sputtered in the smoke but pushed forward as well as she could. A shadow appeared before her, just beyond the flames. She reached for whoever it was, but the flames licked her fingers. Crying out, she pulled her fingers back and tucked them quickly in her mouth, trying to cool the fresh pain._

_The shadow moved and muttered something she couldn’t hear over the roaring of the fire. Tamryn began to sob, not knowing how to get around the flames, the pain in her fingers worsening with each second. She fell to the ground, gasping for air as the smoke threatened to swallow her up._

_And as suddenly as the nightmare had started, it stopped. Strong arms gathered her up as the smoke dissipated._

_“_ Da’len, _are you alright?” her mother whispered in her ear._

_“My fingers…” Tamryn looked up with tears in her eyes. After meeting her mother’s sympathetic gaze, her eyes wandered and she saw another person standing beside her mother._

_“Adaia, she has to go with them,” the Elder said. Valendrian had always been kind to Tamryn and Miriel -- like a grandfather to both of them. But there was something in his tone that frightened Tamryn._

_“I know,” Adaia sobbed as she pulled her daughter close. It was then that Tamryn saw who it was that had formed the shadow in the flames. A tall man in a long robe stepped forward, and behind him stood another man in bulky grey armor. The robed man reached for her fingers, and at her mother’s approving nod, Tamryn extended her blistering hands._

_“Let me see here,” the robed man said, his voice gentle as he smiled at her. Passing a hand in the air over her fingers, Tamryn felt the strangest sensation as blue sparkling light filled the space above her hands. The coolness of it made her shiver, but when he was finished, Tamryn looked at her fingers. Not only had the pain gone away, but the blisters had faded as well._

_“Is that better?” the man smiled._

_“Yes, thank you,” Tamryn said, gripping her mother again._

_“We will take good care of her.”_

_“That won’t make me miss her any less,” Adaia responded as a tear fell down her cheek and landed on top of her daughter’s head._

 

 

 

“Are you all right? Say something, please…”

Tamryn shook her head in surprise. She felt exhausted, but she was grateful for the interruption to that dream. Her mother’s voice. The flames. Her blistering fingers. Irving. It was always the same nightmare.

“Jowan?” she mumbled as she sat up on the edge of the bed, still struggling to pull herself from the fog of sleep.

“I’m glad you’re all right,” Jowan responded. Tamryn managed to pull herself to her feet as he continued. “They carried you in this morning. I didn’t even realize you’d been gone all night.”

“Typical of my best friend to not know when I’m missing,” Tamryn teased.

“You know it’s not like that,” Jowan protested. “They don’t tell anyone when someone’s going through the Harrowing. There was no way I could have known. I--”

“It’s all right, Jowan. I know. I was just giving you a hard time.”

“I’ve heard about apprentices that never come back from Harrowings. Is it really that dangerous? What was it like?”

She didn’t really know how to answer that. In fact, Tamryn still wasn’t sure she even understood what the Harrowing’s true test was. Was it her duel with the Spirit of Valor? Her fight with the Sloth Demon? The Rage Demon? Or was Mouse the ultimate part of the test after all?

“It was a test of ability -- that’s all,” she responded, choosing her words carefully, still struggling to shake the painful memories of her nightmare from her sleepy head.

“And now you get to move to the nice mages’ quarters upstairs. I’m stuck here and I don’t know when they will call me for _my_ Harrowing.” Jowan turned away from her, but Tamryn could tell there was more behind his words that he wasn’t saying. She had known Jowan a long time. They had been fast friends when she was ripped from her loving mother, father, and twin sister and brought to the Circle. Jowan was several years older than her, but he had always taken care of her. He had been there for her when no one else was.

As a young teenager, she had thought there was more between them, but one intimate moment was all it had taken for both of them to know they were … just friends. They’d overcome the awkwardness since then and Tamryn’s heart had long since belonged to another, but truthfully, Tamryn didn’t know how she would have kept her sanity without Jowan for company, trapped as they were by the round walls of the Tower. Jowan provided her with entertainment and a listening ear. He knew her better than anyone else and she knew him to the same depth. There was nothing they kept from each other, and she could see he was truly upset about something.

“Don’t worry so much about it,” she responded with a smile, reaching out to grip her friend’s arm reassuringly. “The mages’ quarters aren’t that much better anyway. Besides, I’ll be surrounded by old people who follow all the rules and don’t know how to have any fun in addition to the fact that there won’t be a single young thing to warm my bed at night. I’ll be creeping back down here in no time. Just wait and see.”

“Very funny,” Jowan crossed his arms. “I know you better than that. You may trick other people with the way you flirt, but you can’t fool me with that kind of talk.”

Tamryn shrugged. “Why? Because you know it’s true?”

“No. Because I know who it is that you _really_ want to warm your bed at night and...stop it! You’re just trying to change the subject.”

“So what if I am?” Tamryn crossed her arms, mirroring Jowan’s movements.

“Look, this is important. There’s no one else I can talk to about this. Not the way I talk to you.”

Tamryn could see that this was more than a simple worry for her old friend, so she bit her lip, silencing her next attempt to make Jowan laugh or change the subject...or both.

“I’ve been here longer than you have,” Jowan continued when Tamryn was silent. “Sometimes I think they just don’t want to test me.”

“You’re just paranoid,” she tried to reassure him.

“No, I’m afraid of what will happen to me.” Now Tamryn could see where this was going. Jowan was truly frightened, and Tamryn couldn’t really blame him. They all knew what happened to those who failed the Harrowing -- or at least, they knew that those who failed were never seen again. And for those apprentices who were too afraid or unprepared, well, disappearing might be a better fate than being made Tranquil.

But there was no way Tamryn was going to let Jowan’s fears get the better of him now. Not in this moment when she should be able to celebrate that she had passed her own Harrowing. She loved Jowan, but he did have a way of making everything about him. She had to interrupt his rambling fears.

“I think you’re reading too much into it,” she said, finding a point to break into Jowan’s frightened monologue.

“I shouldn’t waste your time with this,” Jowan replied. Tamryn held back a sigh of relief that this depressing conversation would be over. “I was supposed to tell you to see Irving as soon as you woke up.”

Now that was a step forward.

“I should go to him immediately,” Tamryn said, thankful for a task that would free her from Jowan’s worries.

“Better not keep him waiting. We can speak later.” And with that, Jowan nodded and left her alone in the apprentice quarters.

Tamryn took a moment to straighten the sleep out of her robes and make sure her hair wasn’t matted on one side of her head. Heading for the vanity in the back dressing room, she couldn’t help but overhear some apprentices whispering as she rounded the corner. They must not have seen her, because she soon realized they were talking about her.

“Did you hear anything?” the first apprentice said. “Is she all right? Is she awake?”

“Why do you care?” the second responded. “Are you best friends now?”

“I’m just curious. That templar, Cullen, said it was the quickest, cleanest Harrowing he’s ever seen. He says she’s very talented and very brave.”

Tamryn couldn’t help it. The feeling was always the same. Whether she was meeting his eyes as he stared at her from across the room at dinner, whether he nodded at her when she passed him in the hallway, or whether it was one of the rare occasions where she actually got to speak to the fresh, new templar who had arrived at the Circle Tower only a year ago, it didn’t matter. Whenever Tamryn saw, heard, or even thought of Cullen, her heart raced and her stomach dropped to the floor.

Just as her mother had told her she would feel when --

“Well, he would, wouldn’t he?” the second apprentice interrupted Tamryn’s rambling thoughts as she rose to her feet, satisfied that the disheveled evidence of a nightmarish sleep was gone from her face, hair, and clothing. She listened as the mages’ footsteps faded into the hallway before she stepped out in search of Irving, the First Enchanter and her mentor since the day he had healed her small, burned fingers.

As she walked purposefully through the halls of the Tower and up the stairs to the floor where Irving’s office was located, Tamryn let her fingers trail along the cold, stone walls that had held her prisoner since that day. Passing the Harrowing didn’t exactly mean total freedom, but it was at least a step toward a greater level of autonomy. Becoming a full mage meant that she would train others and occasionally be sent beyond the Tower’s walls to help the people of Ferelden with tasks made simpler by the use of magic.

How she had longed to see the outside world again. She had missed her family -- especially her mother -- all these years. These walls had served as a prison, but they could not keep her from ascending within the Circle. They could not keep her from passing her Harrowing and being eligible for greater tasks, perhaps even tasks that would let her return to the world on occasion.

Despite Jowan’s crazed murmurings, this was a good day.

And the day became immensely better when she saw a blonde-haired figure at the end of the hall. She slowed her step. He hadn’t seen her yet, but he would soon, and her favorite part of all of their encounters was the way his eyes lit up when he first realized it was her.

This time was like all the others. Cullen never disappointed her. His golden eyes nearly burst when she came into view. Most of the time, she just walked past, not knowing what to say. But something about passing her Harrowing made her feel brave and bolder than before.

She stopped and looked him straight in the face, blowing the stray hairs out of her eyes so she could get a better look at him.

“Oh, um, h-hello. I...uh, am glad to see your Harrowing went smoothly,” he stammered.

“Hello, Cullen,” she replied, enjoying this moment immensely. He was so adorably awkward. Tamryn was not inexperienced with men -- the Circle was not a place of chastity among mages or templars, although for the latter it was supposed to be -- but Cullen was one of the few templars who took his duty very seriously. His sweet naivete was one of the things that drew Tamryn to him more than anything.

“Th-they picked me as the templar to strike the killing blow if...if you became an abomination.”

That got Tamryn’s attention. She found it hard to control her anger.

She hated templars. Cullen’s temperament was a rarity when compared with his fellows. Most of the templars took advantage of their power and station to abuse and mistreat the Circle mages in all manner of ways. And most mages did not report what happened to them for fear of being blamed for the conduct and killed -- or worse, made Tranquil. Tamryn had escaped the attention of most templars. She guessed it was either because she was an elf or because she was Irving’s protege, and she figured it was more of the latter than the former. Everyone in the Tower knew how Irving doted on her, his prized apprentice. And her special status had saved her from the grasp of templars who would have made her life miserable without it.

Yes, she hated all of the templars. All of them but this one before her. But it was this very templar that had been assigned to cut her throat should she fail the Harrowing. Did they know? Could they see how she felt? How cruel would that have been, to have been slain by this one, kind, good soul who she...cared for, possibly even loved?

The blow felt personal, even though deep down, she knew there was no way that Greagoir or Irving or anyone in the Tower besides Jowan knew how she truly felt. She grit her teeth and tried to pretend that she felt nothing. Cullen was just doing his duty. That was all.

“I-It’s nothing personal. I swear!” he protested, voicing her thoughts aloud as if he knew what she were thinking. Even though she was enraged at the entire situation --mages caged like criminals, templars tasked with guarding them, the abuse by those in power, free will stolen from both groups -- she couldn’t fault Cullen for it. And he looked so distressed over the whole thing. She longed to take him in her arms and--

“I… uh, I’m just glad you’re all right. You know,” he concluded, and Tamryn’s heart softened.

“Would you have really struck me down?” she asked. Cullen flinched as if her words had slapped him.

“I would’ve felt terrible about it...But I serve the Chantry and the Maker, and I will do as I’m commanded.”

_Damn the Chantry_ , she thought, _and damn the Maker, too._ _They keep us so far apart...It just isn’t right._

“Cullen, I --” Tamryn stopped. She found she had unwittingly taken a step toward the fair-haired templar, her arm outstretched as if she would touch him. She longed to. Oh, how she longed to, but as she looked into Cullen’s face, she saw equal parts fear and desire in his eyes. He wanted her to touch him. She could see it plain as day. But at the same time, she knew how devoted he was to his order and the vows he had made.

She couldn’t do this to him. She couldn’t force him into this. It was enough to know that he cared for her. That would keep her heart warm on cold nights surrounded by stone walls. Cullen cared for her, and tomorrow was another day that she could see him, talk to him, simply be near him.

No. She would not force him to choose between his duty and his heart. And she would not force herself to do so, either.

She quickly pulled her arm back and spoke quietly, unable to meet Cullen’s gaze.

“I shouldn’t distract you from your duties,” she said.

He made a sound that forced her to look back up at him. His expression had relaxed and looked less pained, as it had when he first saw her at the end of the hall. But what made her heart jump was the totally unexpected movement he made next -- something so out of character she would never have guessed it was truly him. She watched as Cullen stepped forward, one arm outstretched towards her with that sweet, naive grin on his face.

“Oh, you’re not distracting. I mean, you are, but … well, you’re not. I mean,” he paused, and Tamryn held her breath. Her heart was fluttering like a hummingbird in her chest as Cullen bridged the gap between them by yet another step.

_I won’t stop you_ , she thought. _I could never stop you. On this day of all days..._

And then the moment for which she had waited over a year finally happened. With one, cold, armored hand, Cullen reached out and touched her cheek gently.

“You can talk to me anytime...if you want,” he whispered.

Even though their skin was separated by a pair of plate gloves, Tamryn’s face burned almost as hotly as the fire on the day Irving and Greagoir took her away from the Denerim alienage. But this time, the flame didn’t hurt. The icy-hotness of Cullen’s glove spread from her cheek to her neck and into her heart, which was already beating with crazy fervor.

This day was full of exciting, new things in life. The air was charged with the winds of change, shocking Tamryn with an excitement for the future that she had never felt before. She had passed her Harrowing. She was now a full mage, no longer an apprentice. And Cullen…Cullen had _touched_ her.

She had no idea where this could go, or if it would go anywhere at all, or what it all meant, but for the first time since she had been ripped from her mother’s arms as a child, Tamryn Tabris felt hope -- true hope in the future.


	4. Duty and Honor Bound

_24 Varimensis 9:30 Dragon_

 

 

“Oh, I really messed up this time.”

Miriel wanted to respond to Shianni with a resounding “yes.” She wanted to scold her cousin’s impulsive and thoughtless behavior, but she knew that a few years ago, she would have reacted in the same way. In fact, if it wasn’t her wedding day, Miriel might have been the one to injure the arl’s son instead of Shianni. The only difference would have been that she would have done much more than simply knock him unconscious.

Soris sprang to Shianni’s defense. “It’ll be all right. He won’t tell anyone an elven woman took him down.”

“I hope so. I should get cleaned up,” Shianni replied as she turned to leave. Miriel bit her tongue as she watched Shianni walk away dejectedly. She let out a heavy sigh, brushing aside her frustration as she moved to follow and comfort her cousin, but before she could take a step further, two new faces appeared in her path, stopping her in her tracks.

“Is everybody else all right?” Soris asked the newcomers, a slightly nervous tone to his voice as the first, a lithe, blonde, elfmaid with hair done up in small braids, walked up to him, accompanied by a muscular elf with hair the color of the moon and a jawline that could slice a piece of parchment in two.

“I think we’re just shaken. What was that about?” the elfmaid asked.

“Looks like the arl’s son started drinking too early,” Soris replied with a nervous chuckle before turning back to face Miriel. “Well, let’s not let this ruin the day. Uh, this is Valora, my betrothed.” Soris gestured to the fair-haired elfmaid before him.

“I see,” Miriel responded, turning back to look at the man in front of her. “So you must be Nelaros?”

“A pleasure,” Nelaros replied. “Soris said much of you -- some of it was even positive.”

Miriel couldn’t help but laugh. She liked this elf already. A sense of humor was an important thing to have, especially on today of all days. She wasn’t the only one resigned to this fate. Perhaps Shianni was right. Perhaps she _would_ like Nelaros and maybe time would help her learn to do more than just live with this arrangement. If Nelaros could make her laugh, an arranged marriage might be what she had hoped -- not the dream of her mother and father’s romance, but at least something pleasant.

Of course, Soris did have a quip in reply. “Hey. I just wanted to give you a sporting chance to run.”

Soris laughed, but Miriel smiled wryly as she watched her cousin stare with surprise, and perhaps admiration, at the elfmaid who would be his bride later that day.

“I’m sure the two of you have a lot to discuss,” he finally said.

“As do you,” she teased with a knowing look. Soris rolled his eyes at her as he and Valora walked together toward the _vhenadahl_.

But Soris’s absence meant Miriel was left alone with her betrothed, and for the first time in her life, Miriel wasn’t quite sure what to say. Luckily, she didn’t have to worry. Nelaros broke the awkward silence first.

“Well, here we are,” he began, looking down at her with crisp green eyes. “Are you nervous?”

“Not really,” she said truthfully. “You?”

“I thought I’d stay calm,” Nelaros replied, “but finally seeing you has made me….well, let’s just say I’m not calm.”

“I see.” Miriel wasn’t sure what he meant by that, and apparently Nelaros could sense her uncertainty.

“Oh, not in a bad way.” Nelaros shuffled his feet uncomfortably. “I’m sorry. That came out all wrong. What I meant was that you are even more beautiful than I had imagined. I hope you don’t mind me saying so, seeing as we just met a few moments ago. I feel a bit tongue-tied when I look at you.”

The flattery was obvious, but it was also well-meant. Miriel couldn’t help but smile in reply. “No. I don’t mind at all. A woman would be foolish to turn down such a nice compliment. But I assure you there is much more to me than my looks.”

“I have no doubt.” Nelaros grinned. “It was hard to leave Highever, but your father’s matchmaker spoke highly of you, and rightfully so.”

_Tongue-tied, hmph_ , Miriel thought. _He does know what to say to make a woman smile. Still, not a bad way to start the relationship. Flattery doesn’t hurt._

It was shallow and she knew it, but she appreciated that the elf who would soon be her husband was not only handsome but also trying to make her smile, even in the first few minutes she knew him. Miriel felt that was a good sign. She only hoped she could do the same for him as his feelings about the arrangement had to be somewhat similar to hers.

Even though Nelaros seemed nice enough, Miriel did need to know one thing before she went forward with this marriage. There was one quality in her future husband that she wanted to be sure of before committing herself for life. Whether Nelaros possessed this particular trait would not change her mind about going through with the wedding, but it _would_ affect how she felt about it.

“I know we just met, but I need to ask you something,” she began, staring straight into Nelaros’s green eyes. “It’s important to me.”

“Of course.” He nodded at her, a serious expression overtaking his face in return. “Ask whatever you like. We’re about to be married to each other. Honesty is a good way to begin a life-long relationship.”

“I agree, which is why I need to know one thing. Why did you agree to this match?”

It was a loaded question and a bit unfair. Miriel knew that, but her mother had taught her that if you could understand what truly hid behind someone’s eyes, you were better equipped to know how to handle that person. Although Adaia had meant those words in regards to fighting enemies, and Nelaros was not Miriel’s enemy, she still felt that if she could understand why Nelaros had agreed to marry her, she would know so much more about the type of person he was. On the surface, he seemed a good sort, but appearances could be deceiving.

To her surprise, Nelaros did not balk at the question, not even for a second. That was another good sign.

“For my family,” he responded quickly. “They wanted me to be happy and start my own life. I guess you could say I’m doing this out of a sake of duty to them. But now that I’ve met you, I have a feeling that it was a good decision. A very good decision.”

She wasn’t sure what she expected, but Miriel found she was relieved at Nelaros’s answer. There could have been so many other reasons he was willing to go through with this match -- money, a chance to leave his home, something dark in his past -- but as she looked into his green eyes that had not wavered from her own or blinked while answering her, she sensed he was telling the truth. And she was glad of it. After all, it was her own love for her family that had caused her to relent and forego dreams of a marriage brought about by true love for this contractual agreement.

“What about you?” Nelaros asked, interrupting her thoughts.

“The same,” she said softly. “The very same reason.”

The smile he rewarded her with in response was one of genuine respect and understanding. “I think we will get along quite well, then,” he said.

“I agree,” Miriel replied.

“Denerim itself seems friendlier than Highever,” Nelaros said, changing the subject. “Perhaps because it’s so large that humans take less notice of us.”

“Hmph,” Miriel scoffed. “They seemed to take great notice of us today, and that was not a good thing.”

“Is what happened today a common occurrence?”

“No. Not really.” She held back from telling him about her mother. That was a story for another day. Nelaros seemed to sense her discomfort.

“I’m sure what happened today will be the end of it,” he said reassuringly. “If the humans wanted to do more to your friend earlier, they would have, at least in my experience.”

“While I don’t necessarily share your confidence that we have seen the end of that group of humans,” Miriel replied, “I do hope you are right.”

Optimism. Another redeeming quality. This Nelaros was shaping up very well in many ways -- a sense of humor, a positive outlook, handsome, and constrained by duty and loyalty to family. So far, so good. Hopefully, the day would only continue to get better and they could put the entire horrible human encounter behind them.

“Come on, cousin,” Soris had returned to interrupt their conversation. “We should let them get ready.”

“Anxious to get to the wedding bed now, are we, Soris?” Miriel teased, in earshot of Nelaros nearby but quiet enough that Valora could not hear from her position on Soris’ other side. Nelaros rewarded her with a chuckle.

“What?! No, I mean --” Soris stopped as Valora stepped nearer. Miriel just shook her head as her cousin’s cheeks reddened.

“We’ll see you two in a bit,” Valora said. “Don’t disappear on us.”

“I will see you soon,” Nelaros added quietly with a smile as he followed Valora, leaving Miriel alone with Soris again.

“So…” Soris said as soon as their matches were out of hearing range. “What do you think of Nelaros?”

“I like him,” Miriel said quickly.

“Really?” Soris raised his eyebrows at her.

“Yes, really. He seems kind and he made me laugh. Doesn’t hurt that he told me I’m beautiful.”

“Every man I’ve met tells me you’re beautiful, cousin. That doesn’t mean they actually will get along with you and your temper.”

“Oh, shut up, Soris,” Miriel said as she gave Soris a playful shove. “This isn’t an easy thing for any of us, but Nelaros seems to be a good match. It could have been a lot worse, but he is loyal to his family. That’s what really matters.”

“I guess you’re right. Valora is very...energetic.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Miriel turned to face her cousin more fully and gauge his reaction.

“No, I -- I think I like her, too.” By the sheepish grin on his face, Miriel could tell that Soris more than liked his betrothed. In fact, he seemed quite enamored with her. Her heart soared with happiness for her cousin. If they could just put the earlier events with Shianni and the arl’s son behind them, today might not be a bad day at all.

But just as soon as that peaceful thought crossed her mind, Miriel watched Soris’ expression change to one of concern as he looked past her.

“Don’t look now, but we have another problem,” he said. Miriel followed his gaze to see what he meant. Her eyes immediately lighted on a dark-haired human. He was well-armed, and from the way he moved, Miriel could tell he knew how to use the weapons he carried. Instinctively, she reached for the dagger she always kept at her waist before she remembered she was not in her usual clothes.

_Blast this wedding outfit_ , she thought as she ground her teeth together.

“This doesn’t look good,” she said softly.

“No, it doesn’t,” Soris replied. “Could be one of Vaughan’s or just a random troublemaker.”

“This many humans in one day?” Miriel questioned as she turned back to look at the stranger. “This is not a normal occurrence. There has to be a reason he’s here.”

“Either way, we need to move him along before someone does something stupid.”

“You mean, until Shianni sees him.”

“You said it.”

“Right,” Miriel nodded. “I’m going to go talk to him.”

“Wine is flowing, and I don’t think we want another incident.”

“Like I said,” Miriel replied. “I’m going to talk to him right now.”

“Let’s do this quickly.”

As she began walking toward the new human, Miriel noticed that he was watching her as well. There seemed to be something different about this man. He didn’t emit the same ominous aura as Vaughan’s crew that had appeared earlier. Why was he here?

“Good day,” he said, bowing slightly when she approached with Soris at her side. “I understand congratulations are in order for your impending wedding.”

“Do you have business here?” Miriel asked. Soris shot her a look with one raised eyebrow. She hadn’t meant to be quite so blunt, but she was never one to beat around the bush, either.

“I do,” the human replied with a slight smile on his face. “I believe, however, that I may have already found what I was seeking.”

That struck Miriel as a strange response. What in the void did that mean? Was he seeking _her_? It was no matter, however. All Miriel wanted was for this man to leave without incident.

“Do I know you?” Miriel asked.

“No,” the man answered, “but I know you.” Miriel didn’t like the sound of that response. She realized her tattoo was a distinctive feature for a city elf, but she still did not remember ever meeting this man before. Why and how did he know her? What was his purpose here?

“If you have already found what you sought, then you will be leaving, I assume,” she said with furrowed brows.

“I’m sorry, but I have no intention of leaving.”

“Fine,” Miriel responded, her blood beginning to rush in anticipation of...something. She didn’t know why this human was here or what he wanted, but she could tell it had something to do with her. “Maybe we can make a compromise.”

“She keeps her composure, even when facing down an unknown and armed human. A true gift, wouldn’t you say, Valendrian?”

Valendrian? How did this human know the elder’s name?

Just as the human finished his question, Valendrian appeared at his side. Miriel had been paying such close attention to the man’s movements, she hadn’t noticed the elder nearby until he joined the conversation.

“I would say the world has far more use of those who know how to stay their blades,” Valendrian replied, but what he said next surprised Miriel more than anything else she had heard that day. “It is good to see you again, my old friend. It has been far too long.”

“You know this human, Elder?” Miriel asked.

“May I present Duncan,” Valendrien replied, “head of the Grey Wardens in Ferelden.”

A Grey Warden. Here in the alienage. And he was looking for her. But why? She had heard tales of the Grey Wardens, their heroic deeds, and enduring legacy of bravery, but if the Grey Warden was here looking for her, why didn’t he come before today -- before this day where she made vows to live her life with Nelaros? Why was this Grey Warden here when it was too late to save her from a fate tied forever to the alienage?

“How do you know the elder?” she asked.

“Valendrian and I have known each other for almost twenty years...since the time I tried to recruit your mother, in fact.”

Duncan had tried to recruit Miriel’s mother? How was she never told this? How many more revelations would she receive on this day when it was too late for her to go back on her word? She had already given up on so much. Miriel thought the Maker or the Creators or whatever power might actually rule this world cruel for throwing her such an odd twist of fate on today of all days.

“You tried to recruit my mother?”

“I did. Your mother was a fiery woman. She would have made an excellent Grey Warden.”

“So what happened?”

“I never made the offer. Valendrian convinced me that it was better for her to remain here with her family. As there was no Blight and thus no immediate need for recruits, I deferred to his wishes. But it seems she passed her training on to you, am I right?”

He smiled at her then. Miriel liked his smile, sincere and thoughtful. She hoped she reminded this human of her mother. Miriel had strived all her life to be like her.

“How did you know that?” she asked.

“I’ve already heard a great deal about you, if you must know,” Duncan said. “But we can speak more of this later. You have a wedding to attend.”

Miriel was becoming more and more convinced with each word from Duncan’s mouth that he was here for her. He hadn’t said a word to Soris, only her, and he had known her mother, the Dalish elf with a heart of fire. Duncan was definitely right about at least one thing. Adaia would have been a strong Grey Warden.

But the conversation left Miriel with so many other questions. If Duncan were here for her, why hadn’t he come earlier? Was it possible that Valendrian had interfered on her behalf as he had for her mother? Would the elder have denied her the chance to get away from the alienage forever by helping her father arrange this marriage as quickly as possible? Perhaps there was more to the unusually fast arrangements her father and Valendrian had made.

She turned to study Valendrian’s face as he stood by Duncan. The elder shifted from one leg to the other before turning to the Grey Warden.

“Well, my question remains unanswered,” he said. “Why are you here, Duncan?”

“The worst has happened,” Duncan began. “A Blight has begun. King Cailan summons the Grey Wardens to Ostagar to fight the darkspawn horde alongside his armies.”

Now Valendrian looked concerned, his eyes flitting between Miriel and Duncan in equal measure. “Yes, I had heard the news. Still, this is an awkward time. There is to be a wedding -- two, in fact.”

“So I see,” Duncan said, looking at Miriel out of the corner of his eye. “By all means, attend to your ceremonies. My concerns can wait for now.”

“Very well.” Straightening his clothes, Valendrian turned to face Soris and Miriel. “Children, treat Duncan as my guest. “And for the Maker’s sake, take your places!”

“Please, do not let me interrupt further,” Duncan said as Valendrian walked to the platform where the wedding would take place. “We shall speak more later.”

In all the days leading up to this moment, Miriel had never second-guessed her decision to wed on this day. This strange conversation with the Grey Warden had completely thrown her world upside-down. Miriel was duty and honor bound to this match, but something in Duncan’s tone of voice and the way he studied her every move made her skin itch to be gone from this place -- a longing that she had tried to stifle for the sake of her father.

She didn’t want to speak to Duncan later. She wanted to speak more now. She wanted to hear about this Blight and the King’s campaign against it. She wanted to join in the fight. For the first time since committing herself to this fate, Miriel wished she had waited just a little longer before giving her father permission to arrange her future.

Now it was too late.

She didn’t hear the words Valendrian spoke as he began the wedding ceremony. The sound of blood rushing in her ears drowned out Mother Bowan’s voice as Miriel made a decision in that moment to change her destiny. She looked up into Nelaros’s eyes and tried to apologize silently while his smiling green ones looked down on her happily, but she knew what she had to do. She might hurt Nelaros. She would break her father’s heart, but she knew where her happiness would lie from this day forward.

And Miriel would do anything to have it.


	5. Not Afraid of Anything

_1 Pluitanis 9:30 Dragon_

 

“Tamryn!”

Somehow, she had managed to pull herself away from the electrifying touch of Cullen’s gloved hand on her face and move on. The ability to walk away probably had to do with the noise in the next room that had made both of them jump--Cullen back to his post and Tamryn back in step toward Irving’s office. But she had made sure to smile at him warmly over her shoulder as he faded from view, his eyes still gently watching her as she rounded the corner.

She had just passed the library when she heard someone calling her name.

“Tamryn, wait!” Turning, Tamryn saw Niall running toward her. She smiled when she recognized him. He had been a full mage for several years, but he was also a very skilled teacher. Irving had taken most of Tamryn’s training upon himself, but he was often busy with more pressing matters than her personal instruction. Niall was one of the few mages that Irving trusted to teach her in his place, and if Tamryn could call any of the full mages her friends, Niall would be the one she thought of first.

“Hello, Niall. Can I help you with something?” she asked when he reached her.

“I was hoping I would run into you today,” he said, smiling down at her.

“Oh? Why’s that? You can’t torture me with lessons anymore. I passed my Harrowing last night,” she boasted with a grin.

“I know. I mean, I heard,” Niall chuckled. “That was why I hoped to see you. I wanted to congratulate you. I’ve been told that your Harrowing was one of the fastest we’ve seen in the Tower.”

“I keep hearing this from other people. It seems that everyone else knows the details of my Harrowing before I do.” Tamryn crossed her arms and rewarded her fellow mage with a teasing half-smile. “This means you’re not my teacher anymore, you know.”

“Yes. Yes, it does, indeed.” Niall grinned. “In fact, that was one of the other reasons I was hoping to see you today.”

Tamryn cocked an eyebrow at her companion.

“You see, now that you’re no longer an apprentice, I was wondering if you would be free to walk the grounds with me this evening.” Niall flashed a familiar smile at her, but Tamryn just scoffed.

“Is this to be a reward for passing my Harrowing?” she asked, crossing her arms. “We’ve walked the grounds many times before, Niall. Today is really no different.”

Niall rolled his eyes at her before he replied.

“Ah, but that is where you are wrong,” he said, still smirking at her the way he always did during training when he knew something that she did not. “I was always your chaperone then. Trust me when I tell you that the world outside feels...different...when you have the freedom of walking unaccompanied beyond these stone walls, when you and I can walk together not as teacher and student, but as friends. As equals.”

She had never really thought about it that way, but Tamryn had to admit that what Niall said made sense. Apprentice mages were never allowed to go alone beyond the tower, even for a simple breath of fresh air, without a full mage to monitor their movements. Although Niall had acted in that capacity for her before, it had always been with a larger group of apprentices and most of them younger and quite annoying. The more she let the thought settle, the more appealing the idea of walking the grounds without a gaggle of younger students and other full mages acting as chaperones came to be.

“It will also be at night. We’re only allowed to take apprentices out during the day,” Niall continued. “How many years has it been since you felt the cool night air on your face with the moon overhead? There is a full one tonight, by the way.”

Tamryn tried to remember what it felt like to be free in the evening air. Many of her childhood memories were disappearing as she grew older. Often they were crowded out by the painful reminder of the day she was ripped from her mother’s arms and brought to the Circle, all other happy memories fading behind that one burning nightmare.

“You’re right,” she said finally, straightening her shoulders and pushing her long hair behind one of her ears. “It’s been far too many years since I have seen the moon. I would absolutely love to join you this evening. As friends. As equals beyond the walls of the Tower.”

Niall smiled and nodded his approval, but just as she agreed to the later rendezvous, Tamryn remembered why she had been headed down this hall in the first place. If she wanted to have time to meet Niall later, she needed to find out why Irving had summoned her and get whatever task he required of her out of the way.

“I’m afraid I can’t stay and chat, however,” she continued. “I’m supposed to find Irving.”

“Right, of course. No doubt he wants to give you your new robes and staff,” Niall said as he nodded in reply. “I will come find you after supper.”

“See you then,” Tamryn said as she resumed her march to Irving’s office. What a day this was turning out to be. Jowan’s strange behavior, Niall’s invitation, and Cullen’s surprising touch. Maybe the Harrowing was more than a test of ability. Perhaps the test was never truly over. Perhaps it was just the beginning of a lifetime full of adventures and choices that she would have to make without the guidance of the senior mages.

She pondered these thoughts as she walked, and when she finally arrived at Irving’s office, she was surprised to find that the First Enchanter was not alone. At first she was disappointed to find Irving occupied. She had many questions she wanted to ask him about the Harrowing and her new place in the Circle, but all random musings were pushed to the side as she realized that the conversation going on in the First Enchanter’s office was much more important than her existential daydreams.

“Many have already gone to Ostagar. Wynne, Uldred, and most of the senior mages,” Knight-Commander Greagoir said upon her entrance to the room. But he wasn’t speaking to her. He was speaking to Irving and to a dark-haired man she had never seen before. “We’ve committed enough of our own to this war effort.”

“Your own?” Irving huffed. “Since when have you felt such kinship with the mages, Greagoir, or are you afraid to let the mages out from under Chantry supervision, where they can actually use their Maker-given powers?”

“How dare you suggest--” Greagoir began to reply, but was interrupted by the stranger.

“Gentlemen, please,” the unknown man said, “Irving, someone is here to see you.”

With that, Irving turned and walked toward her with a smile. There were few authority figures that Tamryn cared for in the Tower. In general, the templars got under her skin, all of them except for Cullen, of course. And many of the senior mages were all too willing to be herded like cattle by the templars, despite the immense power that all of them together possessed. They bowed to the Chantry’s will, and Tamryn hated it. But Irving had always been kind to her. He obeyed orders from the templars and the Chantry, but he had his reasons and Tamryn respected him for it.

“Ah, if it isn’t our new sister in the Circle. Come, child.” He motioned for her to step forward, but as he did so, Tamryn watched the stranger walk until he stood at Irving’s side.

“This is--” the stranger began.

“Yes. This is she,” Irving interrupted before the stranger could say more.

_What does that mean?_ _What has Irving told this man about me and why?_

“Well, Irving,” Greagoir interjected. “You’re obviously busy. We will discuss this later.”

Tamryn did not try to disguise that she was grateful when the Knight-Commander left. But she was still perplexed and a bit self-conscious at the stranger’s presence. He remained next to Irving, and he had not taken his eyes off her for a moment.

“Of course,” Irving said. “Well then...where was I? Oh, yes. This is Duncan, of the Grey Wardens.”

He motioned to the stranger and Tamryn struggled to control her reaction. The Grey Wardens? Why was he here? And what did this have to do with her? Her mind raced as she exchanged pleasantries with this new acquaintance. They spoke of war. They spoke of darkspawn. They spoke of mages being sent to aid King Cailan’s forces at Ostagar. Did she dare hope that she could be among the number sent beyond the Tower to lend aid to Ferelden’s warriors? Perhaps that was why she was being introduced to this stranger. Perhaps Irving had planned her Harrowing early so that she would be ready and available when Duncan arrived. A million similar thoughts ran through her mind while she spoke with the Warden.

Irving did give her new robes and a staff as Niall had said he would, but Tamryn could not stop thinking of the possibilities surrounding the presence of a Grey Warden. She was grateful that Irving assigned her to take Duncan back to his room and she pestered the visitor with questions about darkspawn, the king, the war, and anything else she could think of along the way. His presence was unlike any she had ever felt before. She enjoyed being around this Grey Warden, Duncan. She was so enthralled with the conversation that she almost didn’t see Cullen nod at her as she and Duncan passed him in the hallway.

Duncan seemed to be a good man, a noble man. But most of all, he seemed interested in her. After all, upon her introduction it was clear that Irving had spoken to Duncan about her before they met. With each word they exchanged, Tamryn hoped that perhaps Duncan was her ticket out of the Tower -- a chance to do something with her life. Something more than stay locked up, practicing the same spells over and over and training new prisoners when they arrived. And if she could get out of the Tower, maybe Cullen could, too...

She enjoyed Duncan’s company very much, so much, in fact, she hadn’t noticed how long she had kept him busy with conversation. Slightly embarrassed for taking so much of his time, Tamryn decided to find a way to exit. It didn’t look like Duncan would be leaving anytime soon. She was sure there would be other opportunities to speak with him. In fact, Tamryn determined that she would _make_ opportunities to speak with the Grey Warden again if she had to. Change was lurking everywhere today, and she would be damned if she missed a chance to join the ride.

“Thank you for taking the time to speak with me at such great length. We don’t get many visitors from the outside world. Mostly just templars and other mages around here. I apologize for taking so much of your time,” she said. “I guess I should take my leave now.”

“It was my pleasure. Truly. But I’m sure you have other duties to attend to as a new mage in the Circle. Congratulations, and don’t let me keep you.”

The Grey Warden smiled at her as she turned to leave. The conversation had given her much to think about. Why had Irving spoken to Duncan about her? Was he considering her as a candidate to help the war effort? And why her? She knew that she was special to Irving, but that didn’t mean she was so different from the other full mages.

She was so distracted, she almost ran over Jowan, who was waiting for her in the hall.

“I’m glad I caught up to you. Are you done talking with Irving?” he asked. The same sense of urgency that was in his voice earlier had returned.

“Maker’s breath! You startled me!” she exclaimed. “Were you following me?”

“Does it really matter?”

“Maybe a little. You’re acting really strangely today, Jowan.”

“I need to talk to you,” he said, ignoring her response. “Do you remember what we discussed this morning?”

“Why are you whispering?” she asked. “It looks very suspicious.”

“Shhh! I just want to make sure we’re not overheard.” Jowan looked from side to side before continuing. “We should go somewhere else. I don’t feel safe talking here.”

“You seem a little on edge...Actually, no. You seem a _lot_ on edge. For the love of Andraste, what is going on?”

“You are so different from me. You’re not afraid of anything.” Suddenly, Jowan’s expression turned sad. “Sometimes, I wish I were more like you.”

“Being me is not always that great. For example, breasts are not all they’re cracked up to be,” Tamryn quipped, trying to lighten up the mood. “They rather get in the way most of the time. And having pointy ears is not as helpful as you might think. They don’t actually slice anything. Not very useful appendages in that respect.”

“By the Black City, will you stop cracking jokes and listen to me for once?!”

Jowan was clearly more upset than Tamryn had realized. Her head jerked away as his voice echoed off the walls, and Jowan looked from side to side after his outburst to see if anyone had heard him. He took a deep breath before he continued.

“This is serious,” he whispered. “I don’t know where else to turn and I would appreciate it if you would just... _listen_ to me.”

Well, he definitely had her attention now. Tamryn wasn’t sure Jowan had ever lashed out at her in such a tone. Something was definitely wrong.

Jowan shook his head in apology. “I’ve been...troubled.”

_Clearly_ , Tamryn though, but she held her tongue for the sake of her friend’s clear anguish.

“I’ll explain,” he continued. “Come with me, please.”

Tamryn didn’t like Jowan’s tone. She didn’t like it one bit. She had never seen him act this way, but she cared for him. He had always been a support for her. Niall had been like a big brother, but Jowan was the kid brother she had never had, despite the fact that he was older than her. If he needed her to do the same for him in return, the least she could do was listen to what he had to say.

There was so much going on in the Circle today. Her Harrowing was complete. Cullen had made his first open gesture toward her. Irving, Greagoir, and Duncan, the Grey Warden were arguing about the war. A potential Blight was upon them. There were murmurings of a blood mage in the Circle. And now this -- whatever _this_ was -- with Jowan.

Even with all that had happened in such a short period of time, Tamryn had a feeling that this was just the beginning. But she was not afraid. For the first time since coming to the Circle, and really for the first time since she could remember, Tamryn was excited for what tomorrow would bring.


	6. No Turning Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay in between chapters! I spent the last two weeks moving, but I'm all settled in now and back to a normal schedule, which means I can get back to writing.
> 
> Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoy the update!

_24 Varimensis 9:30 Dragon_

 

Anger coursed through her like a violent river flooding its banks. Miriel had never felt rage like she did the moment she found Shianni battered and bruised on the floor of the arl’s castle. At the same time, Miriel had never felt such relief either. After fighting her way to Shianni with Soris at her side and watching Nelaros die in his valiant attempt at a rescue, Miriel was indeed grateful to find that Shianni had not been killed as well.

With Soris’ help, she lifted Shianni off the floor and placed the girl’s arm over her shoulder. Carefully and quietly, they limped out of the castle and headed back to the alienage. Shianni and Soris were both painfully quiet, but Miriel was glad to have a moment to think. So much had happened today. She needed time to process everything, not the least of which was Nelaros’ death.

She had barely known the elf who was supposed to become her husband today. Nelaros had thought Miriel needed rescue when Vaughan’s men had returned to the alienage, disrupting the wedding ceremony before Miriel could voice her protest at the arranged marriage. Little did poor Nelaros know that before the wedding had been disbanded by Vaughan Urien’s unruly band, Miriel had opened her mouth to call the wedding off. In a way, the arl’s son had done her a favor, stopping the wedding for her while simultaneously preserving her honor.

Miriel felt sick that she would even have such a thought in the wake of Nelaros’s death and Shianni’s shame. She readjusted her cousin’s weight over her shoulder, pushing forward with Soris at her side and all the other female elves that had survived capture by Vaughan Urien in tow.

With so many people watching at the wedding, and without a weapon available, Miriel had bowed to the will of her human captors as she and several other female elves were carted off like chattel to the arl’s castle. Dutiful Nelaros had been willing to give his life to break her free. He was even more than what she had originally thought as she added courage to the list of his desirable traits. If only she hadn’t kept her skills a secret, perhaps Nelaros would not have been so willing to storm the castle for her. Maybe he would have trusted that she would find a way out on her own, or at least he might have been more careful about his attempt to save her.

Miriel kicked herself for not speaking up sooner about her change of heart regarding the wedding ceremony. If she had been honest with Nelaros after deciding to stop the wedding, perhaps he would not have come after her.

But regardless of what she had or had not said, Nelaros _did_ come after her and had given his life for her and all the other elves captured by Vaughan and his men. That was worth remembering. That was worth honoring. The wedding ring Miriel had looted off his dead body burned a hole of shame and grief in her pocket as she left the dark halls of the arl’s castle and felt the warm light of late afternoon upon her face.

When the alienage came into view, Miriel vowed that she would keep silent no longer. Hiding her training and abilities had hurt those she loved today, as well as those she might have loved given enough time, but time had been stolen from them and Nelaros was gone. She would never have the chance to get to know him for more than the few moments they had spent together that day, for better or worse. Though she tried not to blame herself, instead blaming the idiot Vaughan and his group of brainless followers, Miriel couldn’t help replaying each tragic scene from the past few hours and wondering how things might have been different if she had stepped forward and tried to protect those close to her before she had no other choice.

When they finally reached the alienage, a small crowd had gathered, saving her from the painful memories looping through her mind. Miriel saw that the Grey Warden, Duncan, had stayed, and her heart dared to flutter with the same hope she had before the wedding. A hope that felt wholly inappropriate given the circumstances.

Valendrian was the first to speak as she turned Shianni over to others, who picked up her petite, red-headed cousin and carried her the rest of the way home.

“You’ve returned,” he said, studying Shianni’s form closely. “Has Shianni been hurt? Where is Tormey’s daughter, Nola?”

“Nola didn’t make it,” Valora replied tearfully. “She resisted, and…”

“They killed her,” Shianni finished Valora’s sentence. Miriel was relieved that her cousin seemed to be regaining her mind.

Soris joined in the conversation. “Nelaros, too. The guards killed him.” Miriel couldn’t help stealing a glance to gauge Duncan’s reaction. What would he think now that she was no longer to be wed? Would he be willing to take her with him, far away from this place?

“I see,” Valendrian said somberly. “Would you ladies please take Shianni home? She needs rest.”

“Of course,” Valora nodded, leading Shianni and the other liberated elves toward their homes in the alienage.

Valendrian turned his gaze on Miriel, who stifled the grim smile that threatened to break her own somber expression when it was clear that Miriel was not included in the group of “ladies” expected to take Shianni home.

“Now tell me what happened,” Valendrian said.

“The arl’s family just got a bit smaller,” Miriel answered. To her surprise, it was Duncan who spoke next.

“Then the garrison could already be on their way. You have little time.”

“We may need to leave Denerim for a while,” Miriel said softly, turning to Soris. But no one had a chance to respond before she heard a shout from an elf by the gate.

“The guards are here!”

“Don’t panic!” Valendrian’s eternally cool voice said. “Let’s see what comes of this.”

As expected, when the guards arrived, they asked for Valendrian. The elder handled the situation as best he could, but it was clear the guards were not willing to negotiate. They had come to the alienage for blood.

“The arl’s son lies dead in a river of blood that runs through the entire palace! I need names, and I need them now!” the lead guard commanded. Miriel didn’t miss that he was looking at her and no one else as he spoke.

She couldn’t hide from this, covered in blood as she was, bow still strapped to her back with a half-full quiver of arrows. Miriel didn’t think she wanted to, either. She looked quickly at Duncan whose face was as unreadable as ever. He would not help her. She was left to her own devices. Straightening her shoulders, she made her decision. She was done hiding. She had already decided on their way back to the alienage that hiding had never done her or her family any good, and in this moment, she committed fully to that decision. She would not hide anymore, no matter the cost.

“It was my doing,” she said, stepping forward while staring into the eyes of the guard. Her eyes boiled over with hatred, but the guard’s expression changed to disbelief as he shifted his weight.

“You expect me to believe one woman did all of that?”

Even more to her surprise, Valendrian spoke up in her defense. “We are not all so helpless, Captain.”

“You saved many by coming forward,” the captain replied. “I don’t envy your fate, but I applaud your courage.” Turning back to the stunned crowd behind them, the captain shouted, “This elf will wait in the dungeons until the arl returns. The rest of you, back to your houses!”

Even though she knew it was coming, the shock of her sentence still made Miriel feel sick to her stomach. It took all her resolve to stay standing on her own two feet, staring straight ahead as if nothing had fazed her, but it was a farce. Her world was spinning. She would be thrown in the dungeon, and if she wasn’t dead from what the guards would do to her by the time the arl returned, she would certainly be sentenced to death when he arrived.

Voices. She heard voices. Slowly, the voices dragged her out of the trance she had momentarily slipped into, dulling the fear of what was to come. She saw Duncan was speaking. They were the first words he had uttered since the captain walked through the alienage gates. But it took her several seconds before her mind registered what he was saying.

“I hereby invoke the Grey Wardens’ Right of Conscription. I remove this woman into my custody.”

Miriel was stunned. She stared at Duncan as he watched the guard captain closely. Could it be true? Not only would she escape the alienage and its structure as she had hoped since before this entire horrendous affair, but she would also escape the horrible fate that now awaited her in the arl’s dungeon as well? She shook her head in disbelief and blinked several times while continuing to stare at Duncan. The captain seemed to have a similar response, but he soon found his tongue.

“Son of a tied down-- Very well, Grey Warden. I cannot challenge your rights, but I’ll ask one thing.” The captain’s eyes now filled with the hatred and disgust she had expected earlier. “Get this elf out of the city. Today.”

She heard very little of the words said after that. Soris lightly gripped her hand at her side, and she looked up at him with relief and affection.

“Looks like everything will be all right after all,” he said.

“So far so good,” Miriel smiled, but her smile faded as the guards marched from the alienage and Duncan stepped into her frame of view.

“You’re with me now,” he said. “Say your goodbyes quickly, and see me when you are ready. We leave immediately. Your life here is over.”

In silence, Miriel walked with Soris through the alienage to her small home where her father was waiting for her. She dreaded the conversation that would happen there and found her feet moved slowly in subconscious agreement.

“You really saved my hide back there,” Soris said.

“You would have done the same for me,” Miriel replied.

“But that’s just it. I didn’t. I had the chance to speak up, but I didn’t.”

“Soris,” Miriel began, stopping just before her house door when she sensed Soris’ distress. “Please don’t beat yourself up over this. You had something to live for -- a life with a wonderful new wife who you actually seem to like.”

“But I--”

“No buts. Everything turned out fine. We’re both safe. Shianni is safe. You’re home and Valora is waiting for you.”

“But you--”

“I thought I said no buts.” Miriel smiled at her cousin as he bit his tongue, but from the clearly worried look on his face, she could tell there was something really bothering him.

“Look, Soris, I really don’t want you to worry about me. We’ve known each other our entire lives. Do you really think I would have been happy here, living the day to day life of an elf trapped in the Denerim alienage?”

“No, cousin. You never wanted this,” Soris nodded and hung his head. Miriel knuckled his chin and forced him to look at her.

“No matter how good and noble and handsome Nelaros was, I would have been a poor wife to him. I’m not usually a person of faith, but what happened today seems…” Miriel stared past Soris as she searched for the right words. “Well, it just seems like more than a coincidence. I want this. I’m happy. Don’t be sad about this for my sake.”

“I’ll try,” Soris replied, pursing his lips in a forced smile. “But promise you’ll try and visit us if you ever have a chance.”

“Now that is a promise I can make.”

She watched as Soris turned and headed for his own hut. Rolling her shoulders back, she took a deep breath before cracking the door to her home. As expected, she found her father sitting hunched over by the fireplace. He didn’t move when she closed the door behind her. His back was turned, but she was sure that his wizened face would be couched in sad wrinkles. She let out the breath she had been holding and began bustling around the hut as if nothing was wrong.

“Have you eaten anything today, Papa?” she asked, reaching for a small sack to pack a few belongings. “You really should eat something.”

Cyrion didn’t look up at her. He reached for the fire poker and stoked the nonexistent flames.

“I’m sure there’s plenty of food left over from the wedding fea--”

She stopped. Her father finally looked up at her when she uttered the word “wedding,” and Miriel regretted saying it as soon as it left her mouth. Cyrion’s eyes were wet with tears as he opened his mouth to speak.

“How could this happen?”

Her heart sank, and Miriel dropped her satchel as she fell to her knees at her father’s side.

“Papa, I’m going to be fine. I will get to do what I always wanted. I can be free of this place and see the world. I can use the skills Mother taught me and I can help people. I can protect others and stop the type of thing that happened today from ever happening in the first place.”

“You know nothing, _da’len_.” Miriel’s eyes widened. Very rarely since her mother died did her father ever use the Dalish language that Adaia had used so freely around their home. Cyrion said he didn’t like it, that it would attract human attention. Miriel had often retold herself the story of how her parents met and fell in love, because they were so very different from one another that it seemed impossible for them to have ever even been able to stand each other’s company. But Adaia’s death had been difficult for Cyrion. Miriel knew he still mourned her loss every day, perhaps every minute.

“Then tell me, Papa,” she whispered, tears filling her eyes. “What do I need to know?”

“I have tried so hard to protect you,” he replied, wiping his eyes with his palm. “I told you to hide your skills. I told your mother you would have no need of them here in the alienage, but she insisted you learn. If only she had listened to me. If only you had listened to me...”

Miriel felt her anger rising. Even now when she was on the verge of being free and able to do what she truly wanted to do, her father wanted her to stay close at home where he could “protect” her. Her heart ached to see her father so hurt and alone, but she couldn’t help how it also rejoiced at the thought of a new life. A life far away from the alienage.

She stood up and looked down at him. Cyrion turned his gaze and shrunk beneath her frustrated gaze.

“And what good has that done me all my life, Papa? How did it help Mother to hide her talents and training? How did it help me but keep me separate and isolated from all my peers here? I have no friends beyond my family. I am a freak in this alienage -- an outcast. We had to find a match from Highever because no one here wanted me and I wanted none of them.”

Miriel backed away, picking up her small satchel and swinging it over her shoulder. “This is the life I have wanted to live since I was a little girl! I _helped_ people today, Papa. I saved Shianni and the others. Discount it all you want, but I was able to do something good and protect the ones I care about because my _mother_ taught me how. I love you, Papa. I would like you to be happy for me. Today may not have ended the way _you_ wanted, but it is ending in a way that gives me what _I_ want.”

For a moment, Miriel thought her father would not move from his perch to bid her farewell after her outburst, but slowly, he swiveled in his seat to face her, his eyes moist with pain.

“Someday, _da’len_ , you may realize that the thing you want today is not what will make you truly happy tomorrow. Your mother knew that, despite what you think about her life of adventure before she met me. I only hope that you find what you seek and that it is still what brings you joy at the end of each day.”

He stood and walked toward her. He paused when he reached her and lifted his hands to cup her face, tilting it down toward him and kissing her lightly on the forehead.

“Go with my blessing, Miriel, and remember that I love you. No matter what happens to you out there in the world, this will always be your home.”

Miriel choked back a sob as she wrapped her arms around her father’s thin waist.

“I won’t forget, Papa.”

She couldn’t bear to look at him again, so without another word, she released him from her grasp, turned abruptly, and slammed the door shut behind her. The warm sun dried her tears on her cheeks before she could wipe them away. Lifting her chin, she made her way through the alienage, avoiding the stares of men, women, and children as she passed.

Duncan said very little to her when she finally approached. The crowd had dispersed, and she was alone with the Grey Warden.

“Have you done all you needed to do?” he asked matter-of-factly.

“Yes.”

He nodded and, without another word, led her away from the only home she had ever known.

The Denerim streets seemed strange to Miriel as she walked at Duncan’s side. She had passed these shops and people more times than she could count, but everything felt different now. It felt as if she were in a dream and all the familiar places she knew were colored in a different hue of memory. She was so lost in her own thoughts that she almost missed Duncan pause just before a door on their left. Looking up at the sign, she read “Killiam’s Messenger Birds” before following Duncan into the building.

The shop was not filled with messenger birds, as she had expected. In fact, it was quite empty. Duncan quickly made his way to the desk at the back of the room to speak with a small, bald man behind the counter.

“I need to send a message,” the Grey Warden said.

“Well, that’s a bit obvious if ye in my shop,” the man replied with a crooked smile. “The name’s Killiam and deliverin’ messages is what I do best. Where’s ye message goin’?”

“Lake Calenhad,” Duncan replied. “First Enchanter Irving of the Circle of Magi.”

“Interestin’,” Killiam said, stroking a nonexistent beard on his chin. “Don’t get many requests for messages there. None of my business, anyhow. Look here, can ye write? Or do ye need me to write for ye?”

“I can manage well enough if you have some parchment.”

“That I do. Here ye go.”

Lake Calenhad. The Circle of Magi. Miriel longed to know what message Duncan needed to send to the First Enchanter of Ferelden, but she held her tongue and willed her eyes to stare straight ahead instead of at the message Duncan quickly scrawled on the parchment Killiam had given him. When he finished, he rolled up the note and Killiam quickly secured it with a seal and a string tied around it.

“That’ll be 30 silver pieces,” the bald man said.

“I’ll pay 50 silver for the message to arrive within a day,” Duncan replied. Now Miriel’s interest was truly peaked. What message was so important that it had to arrive so quickly?

“Aye, I think I can manage that,” Killiam grinned wryly. “50 silver it is for me fastest bird. And I’ll send ye message immediately.”

Duncan handed over the money and the two men nodded at each other before Killiam turned for the door behind him. When he opened it, the room filled with the squawking of dozens of birds.

_No wonder he keeps the birds in the back_ , Miriel thought. _The sound is nearly unbearable._

After Killiam had left them alone, Duncan nodded at Miriel and motioned for her to follow him out.

“Eventually, we will be traveling south through the hinterlands to the ruins of Ostagar, on the edges of the Korcari Wilds. The Tevinter Imperium built Ostagar long ago to prevent the wilders from invading the northern lowlands. It’s fitting we make our stand there, even if we face a different foe within that forest. But there is a stop we must make on the way,” Duncan explained as they left the shop behind.

“Lake Calenhad?” Miriel asked.

“Correct. There is...another potential Grey Warden recruit there that I would like to seek out. Finding you has given me hope that another may join us as well. It has been a long day for you, however, and we will not travel tonight. It will take us several days to reach Lake Calenhad. We will camp outside the city and start early tomorrow morning.”

Duncan said no more, and, though she wondered who this other recruit might be, Miriel felt the conversation was over. She still had many questions, but it was clear this was not the time to ask them. The pair walked in silence through the streets until they reached the gates of the city. Miriel paused to look up at them before walking further. Duncan noticed her hesitation.

“Miriel, even if you are afraid, you have no choice but to go forward now. There is no turning back,” he said in a surprisingly gentle tone.

“It’s not that.” Miriel shook her head. “It’s just...once I pass through those gates, that will mark the farthest I have ever been from home without my mother to guide me.”

Duncan seemed to sense the solemnity of the occasion for her and did not push her until she was ready. Taking a deep breath, Miriel put one foot in front of the other and walked determinedly toward her new life, leaving Denerim in her wake.


	7. Shattered on the Stone Floor

_1 Pluitanis 9:30 Dragon_

 

“We did it! I can’t believe it! Thank you!”

Jowan’s elation was so contagious that Tamryn couldn’t help smiling as she watched him look with love on Lily’s face as they walked up the steps from the phylactery room. She was quite impressed with their combined efforts. Together, she, Jowan, and Lily, Jowan’s professed love, had broken into the most carefully guarded room in the Tower and retrieved Jowan’s phylactery, freeing him from the ability of the templars to hunt him down should he escape from the Circle. They could not make him Tranquil if they couldn’t find him, and from Lily’s information, it appeared that was the intent of Irving and Greagoir.

Though she had not expressed it while they had made their way through the dark rooms of the Tower’s deepest places, Tamryn couldn’t help but think that if she could free Jowan, maybe he could help retrieve her own phylactery currently on its way to Denerim. The tasty morsel of freedom hung in front of her like a carrot on a stick, but a carrot that seemed more within reach than ever before.

“We could never have --”

Jowan stopped mid-sentence when he saw the look on Lily’s face as she stared past his shoulder. Tamryn, too, pressed her brows together as Lily’s expression changed and followed the Initiate’s gaze to the hall. Her heart sank when she saw the reason for Lily’s distress.

“So what you said was true, Irving.” It was Knight-Commander Greagoir, and at his side was the First Enchanter, accompanied by two fully armed templars.

“This looks bad,” Tamryn muttered under her breath.

“Gr-Greagoir,” Lily stuttered.

“An Initiate conspiring with a blood mage. I’m disappointed, Lily,” Greagoir said condescendingly.

A blood mage? Who is he calling a blood mage? There was no blood magic involved with any of this.

“She seems shocked but fully in control of her own mind,” Greagoir continued, studying Lily’s face closely. “Not a thrall of the blood mage, then. You were right, Irving. The initiate has betrayed us. The Chantry will not let this go unpunished.”

Suddenly, Greagoir turned his attention on her, pointing at her accusingly.

“And this one. Newly a mage and already flouting the rules of the Circle.”

Tamryn’s attention was briefly stolen by the sound of armor clanking as one of the templars shifted from one foot to the other next to Greagoir. Jowan quickly brought her mind back to the conversation.

“It’s not her fault!” he shouted. “This was my idea.”

“Enough!” Greagoir countered. “As Knight-Commander of the templars here assembled, I sentence this blood mage to death. And this Initiate has scorned the Chantry and her vows. Take her to Aeonar.”

Tamryn watched powerlessly as the two templars walked toward Lily.

“Th--The mages’ prison,” the frightened girl said. “No...please no, not there.”

Jowan moved quickly, forcing Tamryn to jump to the side while swinging his arms out defensively as if to protect Lily from the templars.

“No! I won’t let you touch her!” he yelled, but then he did something Tamryn would never have expected. Pulling a dagger out of his robes, he raised it high over his head before jabbing it deep into the palm of his hand. The templars backed away slowly as red magic swirled around Jowan’s form. Before she could react, Tamryn felt herself thrown back by a violent blast, her body crumpling as the world went dark.

She must have hit her head very hard. She wasn’t sure how long she had been unconscious. Tamryn sat up slowly, the world still spinning around her briefly before she regained her senses. Looking around, she saw Lily, Irving, Greagoir, and two templars sprawled on the ground nearby. As the world stopped swirling, Tamryn began to remember why she was in such a position. Pressing her palm to her forehead, she stood up slowly and surveyed the scene. It was then that her heart sank even more than it did when Greagoir and Irving appeared.

“No,” she whispered. “No, not him. Not here.”

The templar just to her left had lost his helmet when he fell, one golden curl resting on his forehead, stirred from its perfectly arranged position when he hit the ground.

She rushed to Cullen’s side and cradled his head in her lap. He had been there. He must have been the templar who shifted uncomfortably when Greagoir rebuked her. He had seen it all. He had watched her emerge from the phylactery chamber with a blood mage.

He knew what she had done.

“C-Cullen,” she stammered as she brushed his stray curl back into place with her fingers. “Cullen, can you hear me?”

With a sigh of relief, she watched as his beautiful hazel eyes fluttered open. At first, he looked confused. Then he looked relieved and, dare she hope, happy to see her.

“Tamryn,” he whispered. She wasn’t sure she had ever heard him say her name before. Of course he knew it, but he had never said it. It sounded like its own magic falling from his lips. With a nervous laugh, she bent down and held his head close to her own, pressing her forehead against his.

“Wh-what happened?” he asked, but as soon as he asked it, Tamryn could see his memory was coming back to him. Before her eyes, she watched his expression change from happy relief to anger.

“You,” he said strongly, sitting up and backing away from her. Before she could say another word, he was on his feet, towering over her. “You...traitor! You betrayed me--I mean us! You betrayed the Circle and the templars! You conspired with a blood mage.”

“Cullen, I’m sorry, I--”

“No. There’s nothing you can say to make up for this. And to think, I almost --”

“Cullen, hold your tongue. It is not your place.”

Tamryn swung her head around to see the Knight-Commander on his feet again, walking towards her. It made no difference to her if Greagoir stopped Cullen from his tirade. The damage was done. She had made a decision to help Jowan and lost Cullen forever in the process. Greagoir’s intervention would not ease the pain of a new hope, born only that morning, completely shattered on the stone floor of the Tower. She wondered how many other hopes had been shattered against the same cold tablets that kept her, and all mages, prisoner.

She choked back the tears that threatened to fall as Irving bent down, offering her a hand.

“Are you all right?” he asked. Tamryn nodded, unable to respond with words, Jowan’s betrayal and Cullen’s scorn silencing her tongue.

“I knew it,” Greagoir continued. “Blood magic. But to overcome so many...I never thought him capable of such power.”

The bite and hatred behind Greagoir’s tone helped Tamryn find her words again. “He lied to me,” she said bitterly, pushing off the ground and onto her feet to face her fate. She knew this would end badly for her, but she no longer cared. Her best friend had clearly abandoned them. The man she had pined after for over a year was disgusted with her. She had nothing left to lose.

“None of us expected this,” Irving said, in his usual calm manner. Tamryn paid scant attention to the argument that ensued between Irving and Greagoir. Her eyes were drawn to Lily, cowering and silently sobbing in the corner. It appeared the initiate’s heart was broken as well. Tamryn longed to join her, to drown their sorrows together in tears, but she would not let the Knight-Commander see her so weak. No. She would stand her ground and see what was in store for her.

“Where is the girl?” Greagoir said, turning to Lily.

“I am here, sir,” Lily responded obediently.

“You helped a blood mage!” the Knight-Commander approached her angrily. “Look at all he’s hurt!”

Tamryn felt the unnatural urge to help the poor girl. After all, they were sisters with a similar pain, weren’t they?

“She did it for love,” she said, chancing a glance at Cullen. He was watching her, his eyes fuming with anger. She thought for a moment that his expression softened, but it hardened again just as quickly.

“Save your breath,” Lily said, a certain resolve in her tone. “I can speak for myself. Knight-Commander, I...I was wrong. I was accomplice to a...a blood mage. I will accept whatever punishment you see fit. Even...even Aeonar.”

“Get her out of my sight.” Greagoir dismissed the poor girl without a second thought. Tamryn clenched and unclenched her fists in anger at his callous treatment of Lily, but she knew there was nothing she could do to stop it.

“And you,” he had turned his anger back on Tamryn now. “You were in a repository full of magics that are locked away for a reason.”

“Did you take anything important from the repository?” Irving asked, his eyes searching her face carefully.

She could lie. She could say she had found nothing of consequence in the Tower basement, but Tamryn decided she had done enough damage for one day. She had done enough damage for a lifetime. This was not what she had hoped for. She had wanted to help Jowan be free. She had hoped for freedom for herself. She had foolishly believed that perhaps Cullen would want to be with her if she could be free.

_Foolish, foolish girl_ , she scolded. _You lost everything today._

“Yes. This staff,” she said, handing the beautiful new weapon she had found to Irving. He looked at her gratefully. At least she had done one thing right.

“Hmph, some honesty, at last,” Greagoir chimed in. “But your antics have made a mockery of this Circle. What are we to do with you?”

She had no response that sounded satisfactory. She could blame Jowan. It would be true that he talked her into the whole scheme, but she had willingly gone along with his plan. She could again remind the Knight-Commander that she had no idea Jowan was a blood mage. In fact, he had knocked her out just like everyone else. But nothing sounded right, so she held her tongue.

“Knight-Commander, if I may.” Tamryn turned around to find Duncan, the Grey Warden she had met just that morning, walking toward them. “I’m not only looking for mages to join the king’s army, I am also recruiting for the Grey Wardens. Irving spoke highly of this mage, and I would like her to join the Warden ranks.”

Suddenly, Tamryn felt hope again. Perhaps there was a way out of this with her life. Maybe Duncan really was here to take her away from this place after all, just as she had hoped earlier that day. Her only fear that morning had been that she would lose Cullen, but it was clear she already had. She had nothing left to lose now.

Tamryn heard little of the next argument that took place between Duncan, Greagoir, and Irving. All she could think was that she could survive, leave the Circle, and start over somewhere far away from the pain of this day. She met Cullen’s eyes over Irving’s shoulder. He was still watching her, clearly upset, but not as angry as he had looked before.

The feeling of hope continued to grow in her heart. Maybe he could forgive her after all.

“If the Grey Wardens will have me,” Tamryn interrupted the conversation, “I will gladly go.”

“Greagoir, mages are needed,” Duncan said. “This mage is needed. Worse things plague this world than blood mages -- you know that. I take this young mage under my wing and bear all responsibility for her actions.”

That was a heavy promise. After all Duncan had done for her today, Tamryn silently vowed not to make another mistake like the one she had made in following Jowan again, at least for the sake of this man who was willing to save her.

“This mage does not deserve a place in the Order!” Greagoir spat.

“You have an opportunity few even dream of,” Irving said, turning to her. “Do not squander it.”

“What’s next?” Tamryn asked, looking to Duncan for guidance, but it was Greagoir who spoke.

“Cullen. Escort this mage back to her quarters. Watch her closely as she gathers her belongings and then turn her over directly to Duncan. Do not let her out of your sight for a moment.”

Cullen hesitated but eventually nodded in her direction. Turning, she followed Cullen through the halls of the Tower, focusing on the rhythmic clinking of his armor as it echoed off the stone walls. She could not see his face and did not try to talk to him until they had reached her room. A few apprentices remained, but when they saw her enter with a templar, they quickly vacated the space in hushed tones, closing the door behind them.

“Cullen,” Tamryn began as she reached in her chest for her few belongings, stuffing them slowly in a sack. “I’m sorry. If I had thought --”

“Clearly, you weren’t thinking. But it makes no difference. You shouldn’t be talking to me anyhow.” His voice was cold, but his eyes echoed her own pain. She could see it when she turned around and looked at him. He couldn’t hide it from her now that they were away from Greagoir and Irving and the others. Even though it tore at her heartstrings, it simultaneously warmed her heart, knowing that he cared enough to be hurt at all.

“I may never see you again,” she said. “You really don’t want me to talk to you?”

“No, I --” he paused and stared down at her, his face a mix of emotions. After several tense moments, he relaxed and sighed. “Of course I want to talk to you. You have to know that, but what am I supposed to think? I thought you were...different from the others. I never dreamed you would have dealings with a blood mage.”

“I didn’t know he was a blood mage! You have to believe me.”

“How could you not know?”

“Did you know?”

“No, of course not, but I didn’t spend any time with the fellow, either. You two were...close, I believe.”

He was right about that. One thing Tamryn would have to deal with was how she had missed all the signs. But she had known Jowan almost her entire life. Could she really have suspected her best friend of such horrible secrets?

“There’s nothing I can say to fix this, I know that,” she said, avoiding the topic of Jowan as much as possible. “But now I’m leaving, perhaps forever. You were always kind to me, Cullen. You’re not like the other templars. You’re…” She trailed off, searching his eyes for the right word, but all she could come up with was, “good.”

With trembling hands, she dared take a step toward him. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of her while she spoke, which was helpful, because it would take all the courage she had to say what she wanted to say next. If she were never to see Cullen again, she wanted him to know how deep her feelings truly went.

“Before I leave this place, you should know something.” She paused and took a deep breath before continuing. “I love you. I had hoped you might feel the same way. Until this morning, I had never dared to even think that you cared for me. You were just a templar with a good heart, but then….”

She had no words to express what had happened between them that morning. Such a simple token of affection, but it had said so much. Instead, she decided to return the gesture, raising her hand slowly and cupping Cullen’s cheek with it. She heard a sharp intake of breath, but he didn’t move or push her hand away. Swallowing, she took another step toward him.

“I know you too well to think you would ever have shirked your duty for me. Any chance we might have had to be together would have been doomed from the start, but I will not forget you, Cullen. I only hope that you can forgive me...someday.”

She stared into those eyes she had loved for so long, waiting for a response, but it seemed she would not receive one. He still had not pulled away, but his lips were pursed tightly and his eyes gleamed with a steel resolve in the dim candlelight of the room. With a sigh, she slowly lowered her hand, letting it trace over the cool metal of his breastplate before she dropped her head in defeat and took a step past him.

“I guess we should find Dunc--” she started to say, but stopped when Cullen’s gloved hand gripped her own tightly, turning her back around to face him. She felt her breath heave in her chest as he brought her back to him. Carefully, he pulled the hard plate of his gloves off his fingers, and just as slowly as she had earlier, raised his hand to brush his fingers along her cheek and neck. She could feel his warm breath on her face as he bent down towards her. When his lips touched hers, Tamryn sighed into his grasp, feeling his free arm wrap around her waist as she lifted her hands to cling to his neck. His mouth tingled against her own and she tried to memorize every sensation, every bit of pleasure in holding him so close to her heart. Her knees shook when he regretfully pulled away from her.

“I wish you hadn’t done this,” he said. “I loved you, too...I still do, I suppose. But after this...we could never be together. It would never work. I’m not sure it would have ever worked in the first place, but it really wouldn’t be possible now. How could I trust you after you conspired with a blood mage?”

His words stung more than anything else that had happened today. With each rising hope, an equal and opposite weight of defeat crushed her heart into an unrecognizable puddle of mush.  Hope after hope had been dashed to pieces since she had exited the repository, but this was the worst of all. After such a sweet moment, a moment with Cullen that she had only ever dreamed about, and despite the fact that he had told her he loved her, he still only saw her in one light -- a traitor who had helped a blood mage. That was all she was now, no matter what his feelings for her were or had been.

“Goodbye, Cullen,” she said, wiping a stray tear from her tattooed cheek as she turned for the door. He replaced his glove and followed her out of the room and down the hall. With each plodding step, Tamryn’s heart sunk lower and lower in her chest until she saw Duncan near the Tower entrance.

A new life awaited her beyond these cold walls. This was the day she started that life. This was the day she was freed from the Circle.

But for all good things, there must be a balance. This was also the day she had lost her best friend. This was the day she had lost her honor.

This was the day she lost the only love she had ever known before it even had a chance to begin.


	8. Staring into Her Own Reflection

_1 Pluitanis 9:30 Dragon_

 

Miriel wasn’t sure why Duncan had ordered her to stay behind at camp. Early that morning, they had reached Lake Calenhad and Duncan had forbidden her from accompanying him to the Tower of Magi. Even in the short amount of time they had spent together, Miriel had learned not to question the Warden. His word was final, but it was also always kind. She respected Duncan and would do what he asked without argument.

She made camp, as Duncan ordered before he left, just beyond the reaches of any travelers’ eyes at the Spoiled Princess, an inn by the docks of the lake. Duncan didn’t ask and Miriel didn’t volunteer the fact that she had never been on her own beyond the walls of Denerim.

When her mother was still alive, Miriel had often gone with Adaia into the forest or wilderness near the city so her mother could teach Miriel the proper way to hunt without the scolding eyes of Cyrion or the prying eyes of other elves in the alienage. On such occasions, Miriel had often reminded herself of the story her mother had told her about the way her parents met and fell in love, because if she didn’t, it was very easy to forget that the two elves cared for each other at all.

Cyrion and Adaia had been more different than oil and water, but their differences had never been a great problem until Miriel’s sister died. That event, for whatever reason, had resulted in frequent bickering between her parents and occasional silent spells that would last for days. Oftentimes, to avoid a confrontation, Adaia took Miriel far beyond the reach of humans and city elves to teach her the ways of the forest and her mother’s people.

But Miriel had never been alone like she was now. She spent the day setting up tents and gathering wood for a fire. She had no idea how long Duncan would spend inside the Circle Tower. He had still refused to give her any details about this second recruit, and although Miriel longed to see the Tower and meet the mages, she would not press Duncan for information that she knew he would not give her. Without knowing how long she would be out here alone, she decided to act as if her time here was indefinite.

She killed a rabbit for supper and set it in a small stewing pot she had found in Duncan’s bag of supplies, adding a few vegetables she had discovered growing wild in the area. With the rabbit stewing, she foraged for good branches she could use to make arrows. She was heading off to fight darkspawn, after all. She should have as many good arrows as she could manage to carry.

As she scrounged for sturdy twigs, Miriel couldn’t help but appreciate the view of the lake nearby. It was a beautiful place to camp, if nothing else. She loved the sound of the birds flying overhead, the smell of the clear, blue water below, and the feel of the sun on her face, uninhibited by the tall buildings of Denerim and the noises and smells of crowded city streets. If Duncan never returned, Miriel decided she could happily live here on the banks of Lake Calenhad, surrounded by the forests and the water, and she wondered at how much her mother truly must have loved her father to leave this kind of life behind.

As the sun set, Miriel checked the rabbit as it stewed and settled in for the night. Despite the heat of the day, the evening was becoming surprisingly chilly. Using a small bowl from Duncan’s supplies, she enjoyed the sensation of the rabbit stew as it coated her stomach, warming her entire body from the evening chill. After she finished eating, she kept the fire glowing as she took out a small knife and carefully whittled the branches she had collected, sharpening the ends to points and curing any knots or defects to make the arrows as straight and dangerous as possible.

She had finished three new shafts when she heard a sound beyond the trees. It was coming from the direction of the inn. Fearing some human traveler would attempt to come upon her unaware, Miriel took up her bow and silently nocked an arrow as she stepped away from the light of the fire, making it more difficult for whoever was coming to see her in the new starlight. Her eyes struggled to adjust as the darkness of the surrounding trees engulfed her.

But as soon as two figures stepped out from the darkness of the trees, letting the firelight shine on their faces, Miriel recognized Duncan’s tall form in the warm glow. She immediately dropped her bow at her side and relaxed the string.

“Duncan,” she said with relief as she reentered the radius of the fire’s glow. “I wasn’t sure how long you would be gone. I surely didn’t expect you back so quickly.”

“It did not take as long as I anticipated to find our second recruit,” Duncan replied as he stepped away from the small figure at his side and toward the fire. He sat quietly, his eyes studying Miriel carefully as she returned to the safety of the camp. Even after assuming a seat near the fire, Duncan did not let his gaze stray from Miriel’s face.

_Why is he watching me so closely?_ Her brows furrowed in confusion. She had been so distracted by Duncan’s intensity that she had not yet glanced at the recruit he had brought with him, but when it was clear that Duncan would say no more, she turned her gaze upon the silent figure that had emerged from the trees by his side. All thoughts of Duncan quickly dispersed as she stared at the new addition to their small party.

The mage they had recruited was another female elf. Her hair was long and slightly disheveled with most of it falling over her lean, slanting shoulders, leaving long bangs that crossed diagonally, obscuring much of the side of her face that was visible in the firelight. The mage shuffled her feet uncomfortably under Miriel’s gaze and it was then that Miriel saw something that sent a shockwave through her body. In disbelief, she stepped closer, dropping her bow on the ground as she caught another glimpse of what had seemed before to be just a trick of the flickering light.

No, it was not a trick of the light. She saw it clearly as she stepped closer -- a pale, blue tattoo that covered much of the elf’s cheek beneath those long, strawberry gold tresses.

Miriel picked up her pace as she walked across the campsite, closing the distance between herself and the mage. She no longer cared that Duncan was watching. Her feet had a mind of their own and so did her hands when she finally reached the new recruit, intruding upon the mage’s space by brushing the hair out of her face roughly and holding the elf’s face with both of her hands, forcing the stranger to look directly into Miriel’s eyes. She did not care how odd her behavior might appear. If this elf was who Miriel thought she was, then nothing else in the world mattered in that moment. Miriel looked from one deep blue-green eye to the other and back again, her mouth opening in astonishment but unable to utter a word. The mage did not fight her, simply staring back with an expression that mirrored her own.

But it was more than a mirrored expression that stared back at her. Miriel felt as if she truly was staring into her own reflection. Those eyes. The color of her hair. The tattoo...

She lightly traced the pale tattoo over the other elf’s cheek, who did not flinch, allowing Miriel to continue. Miriel knew those lines and curves. She knew them, because she had traced that same pattern on her own face so many times. As she looked into the eyes of the woman staring back at her, the realization of who this other recruit might be made her knees weak. The elf mage seemed to notice Miriel’s sudden falter and reached out to steady her by gripping Miriel’s elbows without taking her gaze away from Miriel’s shocked stare.

It still took several moments of wetting her tongue, but eventually Miriel did find the word she had been struggling to say.

“Tamryn,” she said, barely above a whisper. It was a name she had not uttered for many years. “Tamryn,” she said again, bolder this time. “Is it you?”

The other elf was silent for a moment, but her eyes acknowledged Miriel’s question affirmatively.

“Miri…”

With those two whispered syllables, Miriel had no further doubts. She broke into tears and pulled the elf tightly into her arms. She buried her face in the long hair of her sister and marveled at the string of events that had brought them together. But perhaps even more so, she wondered how this was possible. Tamryn was dead, but yet here she stood in Miriel’s tight grasp.

Tamryn didn’t move or fight. She hugged her sister in return and simply let Miriel cry. When Miriel regained her composure, she relaxed her grip and stepped back, keeping her hands on Tamryn’s shoulders as if she was afraid that her mage sister might disappear if she stopped touching her.

“But how is this possible?” Miriel asked. “You’re a mage? They told me you were dead...the fire...Mamae, Papa, Valendrian...we _burned_ your body on a funeral pyre…”

“There _was_ a fire,” Tamryn said slowly, interrupting Miriel’s ramblings as she studied her face carefully. Miriel was amazed at her sister’s relative composure in light of the transpiring events, but she paid close attention as Tamryn continued to explain how she was alive after all these years. “But I didn’t die from it. I caused it.”

“What do you mean?” Miriel asked. She had no idea how she was even speaking with her tongue tied in knots. Her entire world had just been thrown upside-down.

“My magic abilities manifested early,” Tamryn explained and Miriel wondered at how calm her sister seemed, despite everything that was happening in this moment. “Mother and father knew and had told me to try and hide it as long as I could -- that help was coming. I tried to hide it. I did it well, even hiding my skills from you, my sister. But I couldn’t control my abilities. I accidentally started a fire in that building when a human boy cornered me. I was frightened. I thought he would hurt me and I couldn’t control what happened next.”

“But I saw your body!” Miriel protested. “They pulled you from the fire and--”

“That wasn’t her,” Duncan interrupted from his perch by the fire. “Why don’t the two of you sit down and I will explain all.”

“You knew?!” Miriel asked, eyes wide as she followed Duncan’s instructions and assumed a seat near her sister, refusing to let Tamryn out of her sight. “But how--”

“Yes, now please sit, both of you, and let me explain.”

Miriel watched Tamryn sit down next to her. She still couldn’t believe what was happening.

_I guess it makes sense that Tamryn’s not as shocked as I am_ , she thought. _It’s not as if she’s gone through the last twelve years thinking I was dead and suddenly finding me alive. She knew I was alive the whole time. I wonder what she must think of me now…_

“I knew your mother,” Duncan began, jolting Miriel out of her thoughts and back to the present. “I met her when I was looking for recruits in Denerim. Both of you were very small then. It was a chance meeting. I found her protecting some elves who had been kidnapped and trapped by Tevinter slavers in a part of the city that was beyond the eyes of the guard. Impressed by her skills, I wanted to recruit her for the Grey Wardens, but as she was a mother with two small daughters, Valendrian convinced me that the time was not right for her to leave her family.

“Being friends with Valendrian, however, I kept tabs on her and both of you. I received regular reports about each of you, how you were growing, how you both excelled at all your mother taught you. But I also learned about your blossoming powers in magic, Tamryn. The fire you both remember was started when Tamryn wandered off alone.”

“It was my fault,” Miriel interrupted, tears welling in her eyes. “We were supposed to be playing together, but I wanted to practice our stealth. You said you didn’t want to, but I didn’t listen. I--”

“Miri,” Tamryn said, raising a hand to quiet her. Miriel felt an instant calm as her sister’s steady voice interjected, and for the first time that evening, she thought she saw Tamryn begin to smile. Miriel was beginning to be slightly embarrassed at her sister’s composure. As for herself, Miriel felt confused at all she was learning -- her disbelief that her sister was alive combined with the lies told to her by _both_ of her beloved parents since that day was enough to throw her head into a tailspin. It was hard to focus her thoughts, so instead, she resolved to sit in rapt attention and enjoy the sound of her sister’s voice.

“We were both children then,” Tamryn continued. “It’s not your fault. I wandered farther than I should have. I went into the city and found a boy to play with. A human boy. We were playing hide and seek, and it was fun at first. I came back and hid in the abandoned building at the edge of the alienage, but he cheated and followed me. When he cornered me, he grabbed me by the arms and said he was going to take me back to his house, that I would be his family’s slave. I became frightened, and without any training, I didn’t know how to control my fear. Before I knew it, the building was in flames.”

Miriel was beginning to put the pieces together.

“The body that we burned?” she asked Duncan over the flickering firelight.

“It was actually the body of the boy, burned beyond recognition,” he replied, “and Tamryn was taken to the Circle of Magi to train. The human family believed their son was simply lost, while everyone in the alienage believed Tamryn’s ‘death’ was the result of an accidental fire in an abandoned building.”

“But why?” Miriel continued.

“Valendrian and the First Enchanter believed it best politically. They feared the truth would cause retribution from one or both sides -- either an uprising in the alienage or a slaughtering of the elves by the humans. Both situations were ones they wished to avoid.

“Your parents thought it best as well. For you, for your family, for everyone. It was easier for them to handle the death of a child than to explain that your sister was alive and well but that you would perhaps not be allowed to see her ever again. Whether it was the right decision or not, it was the one they made and the past cannot be changed.”

Miriel was silent for several moments, staring into the flickering flames. These revelations were overwhelming. Not only had her sister not died in an accidental fire, but she had unintentionally killed a human boy. Her parents had lied to her for twelve years. No wonder they had bickered so frequently. It must have been the most difficult decision they ever had to make and one with lifelong consequences for their entire family.

“I’m sorry,” she said when she had regained her train of thought. “Please continue, Duncan.”

Duncan nodded before he spoke. “I retained an interest in your mother as a potential recruit, but also in both of you. Valendrian was kind enough to keep me updated on Miriel’s progress in Denerim as well as tell me that Tamryn was sent to the Circle.

“Tamryn grew to be an extremely talented mage.” Duncan nodded in Tamryn’s direction who gave him a true smile at his praise. “Irving was quite proud of you, Tamryn, and sent me regular updates on your progress as well. It seems you retained much of your mother’s spirit even though you have spent most of your life apart from her.”

Miriel smiled, proud of her sister’s accomplishments. Unlike Miriel, who had been able to remain under her mother’s tutelage and care, Tamryn had achieved her successes all on her own.

“And Miriel, you became a very skilled archer. Better than your mother, perhaps, whose true skill lay with the blade. I was very sorry to hear of your mother’s passing several years ago.”

Tamryn’s expression changed dramatically at that. Duncan seemed to notice it as well, pausing in his narrative.

_Of course,_ Miriel thought. _She hasn’t heard of Mamae’s death. How could she?_

Assuming the role of elder sister, Miriel scooted closer to Tamryn and gripped her hand.

“Mamae died several years ago while defending us from humans who intruded upon our privacy in the alienage. I’m sorry. I should have told you earlier,” Miriel explained. Tamryn just shrugged as she looked down at her fingers laced with her sister’s.

“There hasn’t been much of an opportunity to talk about things like that since I arrived,” she said softly. “Besides, it’s been a very long time since I have seen any family. That softens the blow a little bit.”

Instinctively, Miriel placed her arm around Tamryn’s shoulders. Even though she was older than her mage sister by only a few minutes, she had always assumed the role of protector, as a proper big sister would. For a moment, it almost felt as if nothing had changed, especially when Tamryn leaned into her grasp and let Miriel comfort her with the small gesture.

Eventually, Tamryn looked up over the fire and nodded at Duncan to continue the story.

“As I have explained to each of you,” he began, “a Blight is now upon us, but I have had fears that it was coming for many years. I have prepared and recruited many new Wardens in the hope that we can stem this tide and end the Blight before it truly has a chance to begin.”

“And you just happened to recruit both of us?” Tamryn said. Miriel looked sidelong at her sister and recognized a skeptic expression. It was strange to see her own feelings evidenced so plainly on the face of another. She had forgotten what it was like to look at her sister and see her own features staring back at her.

But not only was Miriel glad to have Tamryn back, she admired her mage sister for being able to keep more of her wits about her, despite the numerous surprises this evening. Miriel hadn’t even put those pieces of the puzzle together yet. Tamryn was right. Why did Duncan recruit them both?

“It’s more than that,” Miriel said, adding her voice to the questioning voice of her sister. “Why didn’t you tell us about each other?”

“Both are fair questions,” Duncan said with a nod. “As I said earlier, I have kept tabs on both of you for a very long time. I knew that you would make promising Grey Wardens and waited for an opportunity to recruit you. Although I hoped to recruit both of you, I was uncertain I would be able to. With your impending marriage, Miriel, I was afraid that you were set on a path like your mother’s -- one that would require your loyalties elsewhere. I hurried to visit with you, and it appears that fate would have you with me after the way that day turned out.”

Miriel didn’t miss the surprised glance from Tamryn at the mention of her marriage, but that was not a subject she wished to discuss at this moment. There would be time for that later.

“So why didn’t you tell me about Tamryn after you knew I was coming with you?” she asked, turning the conversation back to something else.

“I sent immediate word to First Enchanter Irving as soon as I had you,” Duncan replied. “I knew that Tamryn had yet to go through her Harrowing. I informed him of my intention to conscript Tamryn, but I knew she would need to become a full mage before the Circle would let her accompany us. I had no way of knowing for certain that she would pass her Harrowing or that events would occur in such a way that she would be delivered to our cause, either. I had no wish to give you false hope of seeing a sister who you did not know was alive, Miriel. And as soon as I had recruited you, Tamryn, I knew you would see your sister soon enough. There was no reason to reveal that secret to you ahead of time.”

It made sense. Miriel sat back and released her sister from her grasp for the first time since she had recognized her. Would it have been better to know Tamryn was alive but that she couldn’t or wouldn’t come with them, for whatever reason? Miriel wasn’t sure. At the moment, she thought it would always have been better to know that her best friend was still alive after all these years, but she admitted to herself that she might be blinded by her current emotions.

Unsure of what else to do in the moment, Miriel fell back to her usual inclination to stay busy.

“Well, I guess since all of that is out of the way,” she said, standing up and moving for the fire, “the stew I made for supper is still hot, and I dare say it probably tastes better now than it did when I ate it. The seasoning will have set in better.”

She looked to Tamryn for approval, who rewarded her with a smile. Encouraged, Miriel reached for two more bowls and dished up the remainder of the stew. Making and serving a rabbit stew wasn’t much, and it wouldn’t make up for the last twelve years, but it was at least something Miriel could do for her sister and for the man who had brought her sister back to her.

Tamryn didn’t speak much. She and Duncan thanked Miriel for the stew, but the rest of the evening was mostly silent. Miriel was concerned about her sister’s quiet disposition. Tamryn had often let Miriel lead when they played together as children, but she was never quiet. In fact, she was usually quite vocal, making jokes and poking fun at everyone and everything around her. Miriel furrowed her brows as she watched her grown twin sister silently eat the food, glancing up only occasionally to give Miriel a grateful smile. But even her smile looked sad and tired.

Miriel longed to ask Tamryn how the mages had treated her. What had her life been like in the Circle? Had they been unkind to her there? Had it been awful? Did she have friends?

Where was the energetic sister she remembered, so full of life?

Miriel knew that their first night together was not the time to broach such serious subjects, so she bit her tongue and decided to let things lie for now. But she resolved to have the tough conversations with her sister at some point. They were off to fight a war. There were no guarantees that either of them would escape the Blight unscathed. Miriel wanted to know everything about what Tamryn’s life had been before something could happen to either of them.

After they finished eating, Duncan gave a great yawn, and Miriel stoked the fire one last time. It was clear this was the signal for the camp to go to bed, and Miriel couldn’t hide that she was truly exhausted. The emotional strain of the evening’s events had definitely been overwhelming. Duncan bid both of the sisters goodnight as he headed into one of the tents Miriel had set up before his arrival.

But she was not ready to let Tamryn out of her sight yet.

Miriel had noticed how Tamryn stared up at the stars, almost without ceasing.

“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Miriel finally asked as she dragged two bedrolls out of one of the tents.

“Yes,” Tamryn said with a smile. “We didn’t see much of the stars while living in the Tower. Of course they let us out sometimes, but not as often as I would have liked.”

Miriel stared up at the blinking sparks of light above them and sighed in agreement.

“You know, we really didn’t see the stars like this in the alienage, either,” she said. Tamryn looked back at her with surprise. “The tall buildings and the light of the city made the stars difficult to see.”

Tamryn stared at her, expressionless for a moment, before returning her gaze to the sky above.

“I’d never really thought of that,” she finally said. “It’s been a long time since I’ve lived in a city, but I suppose what you say is true. I don’t remember the stars very well as a child, either.”

With a smile, Miriel handed her sister one of the bedrolls she had grabbed and began to lay her own out on the ground, in full view of the night sky.

“I guess we can both take advantage of looking at them now,” she said.

Tamryn returned her smile as she rolled out her own bedroll, right next to Miriel’s. It was such a small gesture, but Miriel hoped this meant that no matter what had happened to Tamryn in the Circle Tower, some things would never change--her closeness and friendship with her twin sister being one of them.

“I guess we can,” Tamryn replied as she stretched out on her back.

“Good night, Tamryn,” Miriel whispered. “It’s been so long since I got to say that.”

“Good night, Miri,” Tamryn answered. “It’s good to be with you again.”

Miriel listened as Tamryn’s breathing became steadier. When she thought her sister was finally asleep, Miriel allowed her own eyelids to close, blocking the bright stars from view as exhaustion sent her into the most peaceful sleep she had had in years.


	9. A Fellow Criminal

_2 Pluitanis 9:30 Dragon_

 

She could try to blame the brightness of the moon, but truly, that was not the reason Tamryn couldn’t sleep. The night sky and stars were even more beautiful than she remembered, but Tamryn’s inability to drift into dreams had nothing to do with the view and everything to do with all that had happened to her in one day.

Life had changed so quickly in unexpected ways. She wasn’t sure she could keep up.

Tamryn had waited until she heard Miriel’s breathing become steady. Words could not describe the feeling of being reunited with her twin sister, but the heaviness of the day had outweighed any elation she felt at the contact with the first family member she had seen in years.

Tamryn had no wish to discuss all that had happened that day with her sister yet, no matter how close they had been as children. They were adults now. They had lived very different lives. How could she explain to her sister the betrayal she felt after Jowan was revealed to be a blood mage? How could she put into words the ache in her heart at the thought of Cullen and their final moments together?

How could she adequately describe all that had happened to her during the last 12 years she was separated from her family and expect that Miriel, who had never known life away from her family, would understand the torment that Jowan and Cullen’s betrayals had wracked upon her soul?

She could not form the words she needed, and she wasn’t entirely sure she was ready to deal with the pain of the day herself, so Tamryn decided to avoid the subject altogether, at least for a while. She was sure that all would come to light eventually. If Miriel was still the same girl she was when they were children, Tamryn knew her sister would not let her off the hook that easily. There had been no secrets between them as children, until the day she was taken to the Circle. But tonight was not the time to let loose all the pent up frustrations of an elf mage trapped in the Tower for over a decade. Not tonight. And not tomorrow.

To top everything off, Tamryn was surprised to find out that her parents had lied about her “death” to everyone, even to her own sister. Duncan’s explanation made sense -- protecting elves and humans from violence on both sides was definitely a laudable reason for concealing the truth -- but they had kept the secret from Miriel as well. Tamryn had spent so many years angry at her family. Although she was quite young when she was ripped from home, she had understood that her parents had no choice in the matter. But what she never understood was why no one ever came to visit her. In all her years in the Circle, Tamryn had not received a single letter. The thought that her family had forgotten her -- that was what had hurt the most.

But that was not what had happened at all. And it appeared that Miriel was not without her own secrets as well. Miriel had been betrothed. But to whom? Had she been in love? What could have happened to force Miriel to leave the comfort of home with a family, and perhaps a fiance, that loved her? Tamryn was leaving because she had no choice in the matter, but if she had been with her family for the past 12 years, she could not see what would drive her to leave that place. There must be more to Miriel’s story than she had let on around the fire.

It was while she had those very thoughts that the sun began to peek over the edge of the horizon. As if in perfect rhythm with the earth, Duncan rose at the exact moment that the sun showed its face. Before she knew it, the entire party was bustling around the camp, packing up their belongings and preparing for whatever journey lay before them.

“Good morning, Tamryn,” Miriel said as she put away her sleeping roll. “Did you sleep well?”

“Yes,” Tamryn replied, mustering a smile for her sister’s sake. “Thank you.”

Thankfully, Miriel didn’t push her anything further. Tamryn was still not ready for deep conversation or any sort of farce that she was completely comfortable with the situation. The three travelers packed up the camp in silence, and a quick breakfast of hardtack was all they had to eat before setting off on their quest.

“It will take us several days to get to Ostagar,” Duncan said as they began the trek south. “Perhaps less if we are able to travel without many stops and continue as long as the sun allows us each day.”

“I think we can manage, Duncan,” Miriel said cheerfully. “Don’t you, sister?”

Tamryn could feel her body aching with fatigue from yesterday’s events and the sleepless night she had spent on the ground, but she nodded affirmatively to Miriel’s question. She had no desire to remain on the road for long. This was a chance she had longed for, bittersweet as it was, and she was ready to reach their destination and begin anew.

The first several hours were painfully quiet. Duncan said not a word, and Miriel likewise was quite silent. The forest thickened around them the further south they traveled. Even the sunlight felt more distant as occasional shafts slipped between the trees. In the strange, eerie darkness, all three of the travelers stopped when they heard a twig snap a few dozen yards to the left. But just as fast as she heard the sound, Tamryn felt the air next to her shift as an arrow from Miriel’s bow flew past and landed with a thud in whatever it was that had made the noise in the strange darkness.

“Well, I hit something,” Miriel said as she jogged past Tamryn and Duncan to see what it was she had injured.

“Nice shot!” Tamryn exclaimed, thoroughly impressed with her sister’s skill in the eerie darkness of the forest. She watched as Miriel’s hair bobbed left and right until she disappeared into the blackness of the trees. When she emerged, she was smiling and carrying a large rabbit from its feet.

“Well, no darkspawn, and I hope you’re both not sick of rabbit,” she said with a grin. “Looks like we’ll be eating the same thing for supper tonight.”

Duncan smiled and said, “In the future, Miriel, it is good to know that you have an enemy at all before firing an arrow into the darkness.”

Miriel’s happy smile suddenly turned into an embarrassed frown as she dropped the rabbit down at her side and stared at the ground. Although it had always been Miriel who had protected Tamryn when they were children, Tamryn instinctively felt the need to come to her sister’s aid.

“It was a damn good shot, though,” she said with a chuckle. She watched as Miriel’s face lit up again, and she was encouraged by Duncan’s nod in support. Miriel saw Duncan’s approving gesture as well, causing her entire countenance to return to its former glow. And with that, the awkward silence seemed to be broken. Tamryn breathed a sigh as she felt the tension from the last day begin to leave her chest.

“How did you learn to do that?” Tamryn asked. “Did Mamae teach you?”

“Yes, a bit,” Miriel answered as the party renewed its southern hike. “Mamae was good with a bow, but I was better. She said so. Learning to shoot without seeing was something I learned on my own with hours of practice.”

“How do you shoot without seeing?” Tamryn pressed.

“Aiming has as much to do with your ears and your heart as it does with your eyes and hands.” Miriel continued to talk about the training she had received and the things she had done to hone her skills. Tamryn found that it was pleasant to listen to her sister talk about home and Mamae and training. Yesterday, she had thought it might be painful to hear about all she had missed, but there was something about the gentle way Miriel spoke that comforted Tamryn in a way she hadn’t felt in years.

If nothing else, Miriel’s voice kept her mind off of the pain of all that had happened in the Circle Tower. Soon, keeping Miriel talking was Tamryn’s main goal as they walked. She found she wanted to hear everything about her sister’s life, and Maker knows they had time to talk on their way to Ostagar.

“So what were things like after I was...after I left?” she asked.

Miriel was quiet for a moment, but when she could see that Tamryn truly wanted to hear about life in the alienage, she returned to her narrative.

“It was hard for a long time,” she began. “Mamae and Papa were both heartbroken, and it manifested in...different ways. The house felt...empty without you. We all felt it. But Mamae still took me to train in the woods outside the city whenever she could. Papa eventually went back to his work. Shianni missed you terribly. The two of you were always so alike.”

“How is Shianni?” Tamryn interrupted. “And Soris?”

“Both of them are well,” Miriel said softly, but Tamryn could tell something was off in her sister’s voice.

“Something happened to them, didn’t it?”

It took a moment, but Miriel eventually replied, “Yes.”

“Can you tell me?”

Again, Miriel was silent for several moments, lips pursed, as her eyes stared straight ahead at something in the distance that Tamryn couldn’t see.

“I can,” she finally said. Tamryn noticed that Duncan had turned slightly in their direction when Miriel answered, and if she wasn’t imagining it, his face looked concerned.

_He may not be a friend yet_ , Tamryn thought, _but he is a good man. That is something that cannot be hidden, despite his many secrets._

“If you really want to hear about what happened, I can tell you,” Miriel continued. “It’s part of the reason I am here with Duncan and with you. But is this something you really want to talk about right now? We’ve only been together for a day so far, and it’s not the happiest story.”

“Yes,” Tamryn said quickly. “I want to hear. Tell me everything.”

Miriel sighed and stepped over a rock in the road before she began.

“I was to be married about a week ago, on the day Duncan arrived as a matter of fact,” she said. “Papa is getting older, and he thought if I had a family of my own, I would be happy and he could relax. I tried to tell him for years that I was perfectly content with him and the way my life was, but he wouldn’t let the idea go. I was never very popular with the elves in the alienage. I was too strong, too fast, too self-sufficient for the men there. I would never find a match of my own in Denerim. So Papa used a matchmaker and found a match from Highever. I met him the day we were to be married. His name was Nelaros.”

Tamryn noticed Miriel pause to fidget with something in her pocket. She peered closer, struggling to see what it was, but Miriel took nothing out when she returned her hand to her side.

“Was he handsome?” Tamryn asked with a smile, hoping to lighten the suddenly serious mood, but Miriel only gave her a half-hearted grin.

“Yes, he was quite handsome, actually. I think if I had gone through with the wedding, I might have been able to find happiness eventually. He seemed good, honest, and kind. He was a good match. Unfortunately for him, I was a bad one.”

Tamryn listened as Miriel told a tale of humans that had invaded the alienage during the wedding ceremony. She relived Miriel’s horror when Shianni was taken along with other females for the humans’ sick pleasure. She felt each blow as her sister told how she had escaped with Soris at her side, but her eyes became wet when Miriel spoke of how Nelaros had tried to save her, not knowing she could fend for herself and sacrificing himself for the elf he was to marry only a few hours before.

“I should have told him,” Miriel said regretfully. “He deserved to know, but Papa said no one should know. For once, I wish I hadn’t listened to him.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Tamryn said as she placed a gentle hand on her sister’s shoulder. “There was nothing you could have done. It sounds like Nelaros was the type of elf who would have come after you, regardless of whether he knew about your skills or not. Take comfort in knowing that you were able to save Shianni and the others because you were strong on your own.”

“Soris helped,” Miriel said, the life returning to her voice at Tamryn’s encouragement.

“I’m sure he did,” Tamryn laughed. “I can see him now, swinging a sword as he follows behind you and screaming like a child at the smallest sight of blood.”

Tamryn was relieved to hear Miriel laugh with her.

“Oh, you remember that!” she exclaimed. “He was so upset when I accidentally nicked him with my dagger. And it was such a small cut. He cried for hours! Even after it had stopped bleeding.”

“Yes, I remember.”

“He has very much grown up since then,” Miriel said when they had both stopped laughing.

“Good to hear,” Tamryn replied. “And Shianni?”

“As far as I know, she was doing much better when I left. The soldiers came for me, but Duncan stepped in and conscripted me so I wouldn’t be imprisoned for killing the arl’s son. I had a chance to visit with Papa and Soris and Shianni before I left, and when I last saw them, they were just fine. But I am happy to be here with you. And with Duncan, of course. He saved my life,” Miriel concluded.

And there it was. The reason Miriel was here to join the Wardens. Her story was no better than Tamryn’s. Duncan had plucked her from the edge of imprisonment as well, and for the first time since agreeing to leave with him, Tamryn thought that perhaps the Wardens weren’t as noble as they appeared in stories if they were made up of criminals saved by the Right of Conscription at the last moment. But she shook her head. There was no use in thoughts like that. The deed was done. The choice had been made. She was here on the road with her sister, a fellow criminal, to join the Wardens and fight the Blight.

“We should stop here for the night,” Duncan said abruptly. At first, Tamryn thought he meant they should stop speaking of the alienage, but she realized he meant they should make camp. She had been so engrossed in Miriel’s story that she had failed to notice the sunlight quickly fading. “Set up camp, and Miriel, you can begin making your specialty.”

“My specialty?” Miriel asked.

“The rabbit stew, of course,” Duncan said with a smile. With that, they all set about their various tasks, setting up tents and bedrolls, making a fire, and soon, the smell of the rabbit stew began to waft warmly into Tamryn’s nostrils. When she caught her first whiff, she realized how famished she was and wasted no time slurping down one helping and then two in nearly no time at all.

“Thank you for the stew, Miri,” she said when she finished the last spoonful. “For rabbit stew, it really is the best.”

“You are very welcome,” Miriel replied. “I’m glad I can do something well at least, even if it’s only killing rabbits.”

“You do many things well, Miriel,” Duncan said as he stood up from his seat near the fire. “Killing and cooking rabbits is just one of them. How about we see how you fare with your daggers?”

“You mean, I should spar with you?” Miriel asked, following Duncan’s lead as she stood up.

“Yes, we must keep your skills sharp,” he replied. “Besides, I want to see what you can do.” Tamryn didn’t miss the challenging glint in Duncan’s eye.

“Well, you do know, Duncan, that blades are not my strength.”

“We have already seen what you can do with a bow, Miriel. But when a foe attacks within melee range, you must be able to defend yourself.”

Tamryn didn’t miss the matching twinkle in her sister’s eyes when she drew her daggers from their sheaths at her waist. Duncan did the same as they circled the campfire slowly. Tamryn sat back to watch, a little sad that she couldn’t participate, but eager to see how her sister’s training had benefited her over the years.

And Miriel did not disappoint.

She struck the first blow, lashing out at Duncan, who parried her in kind, skillfully and gracefully. Tamryn watched in awe as daggers flashed and bodies spun, fending off attacks from all angles. They seemed to spar for hours, but Tamryn knew it had only been a few minutes. She could feel the fatigue of the day settling in on her eyes, and she still felt a bit left out at not being able to spar with them. Daggers, melee, and stealth were never things she was good at as a child. Mamae had tried to teach her, but Miriel was always the one with skill in that area. But once she realized her true power lay with magic, Tamryn understood why she was never able to match Miriel’s, or Mamae’s, talent.

It was in that moment that Tamryn realized there was no reason she could not participate in the fray. Quietly, she reached for her staff lying just behind her. Duncan, to his credit, noticed what she was doing, and while Miriel had her focus elsewhere, he briefly nodded affirmation in Tamryn’s direction.

With a mischievous grin, Tamryn gripped her staff and fired a gentle bolt that flew through the air, directly on target, and knocked one of Miriel’s daggers out of her hand.

“Hey!” her sister yelped as the dagger hit the ground.

“You have to be prepared for anything,” Duncan grinned, as he used the distraction to his advantage, wrapping his arms around Miriel, disarming her completely, and holding his own daggers to her neck. “Where we are going, you will not have just a single opponent. If you choose to remain an archer, you will usually be at range, but there will be times you will have to fight in melee. When you do, you must always be aware of the rest of your surroundings, always be ready for another attack from any direction, as your sister just demonstrated for you.”

“Alright, alright!” Miriel huffed as Duncan let her go. “Let’s try again.”

Tamryn watched with amusement as the sparring renewed, but this time, she shot occasional bolts at her sister, giggling each time Miriel yelped in surprise or hopped from one foot to the other to avoid being knocked to the ground.

“Ok, you’ve had your fun!” Miriel panted, out of breath when Duncan finally gave her a rest. “We know you can shoot at me with that piece of wood, but what else can you do? What will you do if darkspawn come at _you_ in melee?”

“I have a few spells for such an occasion,” Tamryn said with a grin.

“Show me,” Miriel replied as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“I wouldn’t mind showing you,” Tamryn said, but frowned as she thought about how practical that would be. “But without another mage to shield you from my attacks, I’m not sure how well you could block them.”

The camp was silent for a few moments as Tamryn thought about how to demonstrate to her sister and to Duncan that she was fully capable of handling melee attackers. She sprung to life as soon as she had an idea.

“Help me carry all the logs over here to this part of the clearing,” she said as she motioned to a spot a few yards off. Duncan and Miriel assisted and let Tamryn stack as many loose items as she could in three separate piles. Then she placed herself in the middle.

“If I am attacked in melee,” she said, “I would start with this.”

Clearing her mind of all other distractions, she brought the spell she intended to use to the front of her consciousness. She exhaled quickly and watched as the air around her shivered and then exploded in all directions, knocking over the three towers they had made to simulate three attackers. She smiled at her sister’s shocked expression as the objects flew several yards away from her.

“It’s a Mind Blast,” she explained. “I can knock enemies away from me, and once they are far enough away…”

She trailed off as she prepared her next spell, using her staff and combining the elements of the air in front of her until her fingers felt frozen. When she could no longer stand the coldness, she released the energy at the nearest sapling in the clearing, watching as it froze from its roots to the tips of its new branches.

That spell needed no explanation. Although she was gratified that her sister was impressed with her skills, she wanted to put the smile back on Miriel’s face, so she reached down and grabbed a small handful of dirt.

“But I can also use magic to do this,” she said softly as she walked towards her sister. Before their eyes, a small sprout appeared from the dirt, reaching and growing upward until it blossomed into a small lily. Miriel’s smile spread from ear to ear as she watched.

“For you, sister,” Tamryn said as she tucked the flower behind her sister’s ear. Miriel’s eyes looked wet as she leaned forward and embraced her sister tightly. And for the first time since she had left the Tower, Tamryn let the warm feeling of her sister’s emotion touch her heart.

But the feeling was short-lived. Duncan’s voice startled them both back to reality.

“Yes, you will be quite capable should the enemy make it past the melee defenses to you, Tamryn.” Duncan nodded approvingly as he broke up the scene. “Both of you did quite well this evening, but we should get some rest. We still have quite a long day ahead of us.”

“Will we reach Ostagar tomorrow?” Miriel asked.

“We made good time today,” Duncan answered, “but we will probably not make it as far as that. The next day, perhaps.”

Silently, they all made their beds around the fire. Tamryn nestled under the covers, grateful that she was exhausted enough to quiet all the thoughts running through her mind. One night with no sleep was enough, but just before she drifted off, she heard Miriel whisper beside her.

“This was a good day.”

“Yes,” Tamryn replied with a grin before sleep overtook her. “Yes, it was.”


	10. A Very Strange Human

_5 Pluitanis 9:30 Dragon_

 

There was no adequate way to describe how tired Miriel felt.

The camp at Ostagar was finally calming down. Supper around most fires was finished, and soldiers, officers, and mages were all beginning to settle in for the night. The crisp evening air added to the surreal feeling that had overwhelmed Miriel all day. Ostagar was an impressive ruin, but despite the majesty and newness of her surroundings, she found she was restless while everyone else was getting ready to turn in.

Tamryn must have felt similarly, as she had spent most of the evening away from Miriel’s side. Upon arrival at Ostagar, Miriel and Tamryn had been sent on various errands around the camp, but when they met a mage named Wynne from the Circle, Tamryn’s face had lit up in recognition. The two mages had been inseparable since shortly after the evening meal.

“I know she looks old and boring,” Tamryn had explained hastily, eating as quickly as she could while they sat by the fire. “And, well, I guess she is sort of like that. But she’s more than that, too. She was one of my mentors in the Circle. Kind of...kind of like a mother to me after I arrived.”

Miriel could tell that Tamryn felt almost guilty uttering the words, as if she were being disloyal to their actual mother, but she quickly reassured her sister.

“I’m so glad there were people to look after you there,” she said with a smile. “I thought Wynne seemed very nice when we met her briefly earlier today.”

“Would you be terribly offended if I spent some time talking with her this evening?” Tamryn asked cautiously. “I know we still have so much catching up to do, but there are some...things...that happened at the Circle since she left for this post.” Tamryn stirred her empty stew bowl absentmindedly with her spoon before she met Miriel’s eyes and spoke again. “I really need to talk to Wynne about them, and I doubt that she will be traveling with us once we finish whatever we are doing here.”

Miriel’s brow had furrowed as she had studied her sister’s face. For the most part, the journey to Ostagar had been light-hearted and easy going between the two sisters. The first night and day had been a bit awkward at first, but eventually, it was as if they had never been apart. Something had been bothering Miriel, however. She knew Tamryn was holding back in their conversations. Miriel had shared her own story that led to Duncan’s recruitment, but Tamryn had yet to tell what brought her to the Wardens. She had tactfully avoided the subject, because every time the conversation came close to broaching Tamryn’s recent time in the Circle, the expression on Tamryn’s face became so solemn that Miriel couldn’t stand it.

And around the campfire tonight, Tamryn had that same look on her face when she spoke of whatever “things” had happened at the Circle. Things that Wynne needed to know, but things that Tamryn didn’t want to share with her own sister yet.

Miriel shrugged her shoulders and ignored the twinge of jealousy she felt at that thought.

 _She’s been through so much without her family_ , she thought. _She will tell me what happened when she is ready. And if this Wynne person understands her, then I’m glad she is here to help._

“Why would I mind?” she had said out loud to Tamryn with a teasing smirk on her face. “I’m not your keeper. I may be older than you by a few minutes, but that doesn’t mean much here.”

“Oh, I know it doesn’t,” Tamryn replied with a matching smirk. “I just…” She had hesitated briefly before continuing. “I just didn’t want you to be hurt if I left you for a bit.”

Miriel shook her head and waved her hand dismissively.

“Not at all. We have seen plenty of each other and will see plenty more of each other in the days to come. Go and don’t worry about me. I’m sure I will turn in to sleep soon. Just don’t wake me up when you crawl into the tent.”

Without another word, Tamryn was gone. Miriel watched her sister’s slightly tousled head of hair bounce toward the mages’ section of the camp and smiled when she saw the elder mage greet Tamryn with a warm embrace.

_She will be all right._

When Tamryn left their small circle, she also left Miriel alone with the other two recruits, Daveth and Jory. Miriel remained occupied with their conversation for a time, but eventually Daveth left to chase after some female archer he had met earlier that day and Jory retreated to his own tent to worry about the family he had left at home.

Miriel’s restlessness finally forced her away from the fire. She had too many things on her mind to find respite in the quiet of her tent without Tamryn to keep her focused on more pleasant thoughts. So much had happened in the past few days. Was her father all right back home? How was Shianni recovering from the nightmare at the arl’s castle? Would Soris be able to take care of everyone while she was gone? What had happened to Tamryn at the Circle Tower and why did Duncan recruit her?

No. Sitting alone with her thoughts was not helpful with the plague of worries that she had kept well at bay while completely occupied with traveling and Tamryn.

With a sigh, she stood and made her way to the battlements, hoping that stretching her legs for a bit would simultaneously clear her head. The view was actually quite serene and peaceful as night began to blanket this corner of the Korcari Wilds. She leaned on her elbows against the wall, and while closing her eyes, took a long, deep breath of the cool air, relishing in the peace and quiet of the moment.

“Long day?”

Miriel nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of the male voice just behind her.

“Sorry,” the man said with a sheepish grin when she turned around. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Alistair,” she said in relief as she recognized the Grey Warden she had met earlier that day. He had been present for most of the errands they had run around camp, but he had strangely disappeared with Duncan at supper. Miriel had thought him a very strange human when they met. He had been engaged in a minor battle of words with one of the Circle mages when she and Tamryn found him upon their arrival at Ostagar. Even Tamryn had stifled a chuckle at a few of Alistair’s quips with the clearly unimpressed mage. This new Grey Warden seemed nice enough, but very different from any humans she had known in Denerim, and he definitely was nothing like the arl’s son. But still, he was a human. Miriel wasn’t quite sure what to make of him, and perhaps more importantly, whether she should trust him or not.

“I’m impressed you remember my name,” he replied as he leaned against the wall next to her, crossing one leg over the other in repose. “You met so very many people today. I thought I might just fade into the background with the rest.”

“You sort of stand out,” Miriel said.

“I do?” Alistair grinned but then quickly frowned as he met her eyes. “Wait, did you mean that as a good thing?”

Miriel chuckled and answered, “Well, I didn’t mean it as a bad thing, I suppose.”

“It’s my hair, isn’t it? It always gets lots of attention.”

Miriel couldn’t hide her laugh at that comment, and she found that Alistair was smiling at her. He had a lovely smile. It would be impossible not to smile back at him if he looked at her like that. She didn’t even realize she was staring at his impeccably white teeth until he coughed uncomfortably. She wasn’t quite sure what had come over her, and with an awkward jolt, she resumed her forward stare over the valley below.

“Here,” Alistair said, holding out his hand. “I didn’t come over just to make you laugh about my hair, although that is an added benefit of the trip.”

Miriel turned to see what he had in his hand.

“A biscuit?” she asked, one eyebrow raised. Alistair shrugged in reply.

“I noticed you didn’t eat much at supper. We have a busy day ahead of us. I thought you could use a bit more, uh, sustenance to help you rest and prepare for tomorrow.”

It was a thoughtful gesture, albeit unnecessary. She hadn’t eaten much because she wasn’t hungry. But there was that smile on his face again. It was irresistible. Without another thought, Miriel took the biscuit and nodded her thanks. He let her eat it in silence. Despite the unfamiliarity between the two of them, somehow the silence didn’t feel as awkward as she thought it might.

Miriel took the opportunity to study the human next to her. He was tall, but not as tall as some of the humans she had met. He had a strong and sturdy build, not like any elves she knew, whose forms were much lighter. But despite his slightly imposing physical features, his face was full of kindness and … another trait she couldn’t quite place. Mirth? No. She could just imagine his expression if she ever told him that his face looked “mirthful.” She would get that same sideways smile he gave her earlier.

Light-hearted. That might be a better way to describe him. His face was pleasant and playful. A bright light while they were surrounded by so many nervous and serious soldiers and circumstances.

“You didn’t eat supper with us,” Miriel said after swallowing the last bite of her biscuit. “How did you know I didn’t eat much?”

“Ah, well,” Alistair reached one arm behind his head and scratched the back of his neck as he looked to the sky uncomfortably. “You know, it’s my job to assist all of the new recruits with preparing for the Joining. I was never really far away, just speaking with Duncan, but always within line of sight. I’m supposed to make sure all of you are...you know, taken care of.”

“Taken care of?” Miriel asked with a crooked smile. She could tell Alistair was blushing, even in the dim moonlight. Clearly, she had touched some sort of nerve, and with the way Alistair was reacting, it was too tempting to let it pass by unnoticed. “Did you give any other recruits a biscuit? I’m pretty sure Jory didn’t finish--”

“I was just following orders.” Alistair cut her off with an embarrassed shrug. “We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow. The Joining is a very important part of recruitment. Duncan wanted me to make sure all of you were well fed and had a good night’s rest before we venture into the Wilds in the morning.”

“I see.”

Miriel decided to leave well enough alone. Alistair was a very strange human, but she did enjoy seeing him squirm just a little. It was not often she had the experience of making a human uncomfortable.

As soon as she had that thought, however, she found herself blushing instead of Alistair. She wasn’t sure why, and she definitely hoped Alistair didn’t notice as she turned away and resumed her previous pose overlooking the valley below.

They stood in awkward silence for several moments. Eventually, it was Alistair who ended the quiet spell.

“So you’re from Denerim, right?” he asked, turning to lean with both hands against the wall as she was. “I have...a sister in Denerim.”

“Do you have much contact with your family as a Grey Warden?” Miriel asked.

“No, but I didn’t have any contact with my sister to begin with,” Alistair said. “My family history is a bit...complicated.” He pronounced each syllable of the last word slowly and carefully, as if it was a difficult word to form, and Miriel realized she was frowning to match Alistair’s suddenly serious expression. She waited for him to continue, but he just shook his head, returning that pleasant smile to his face and restoring the lighter atmosphere.

 _How does he influence me so?_ _I barely know this man_ , she scoffed. _He is extremely personable. That must be it. His mood is just infectious..._

“Well,” Miriel coughed, changing the focus from Alistair’s sudden melancholy, “my family history is also a bit...complicated, as you say.”

“Really?” Alistair leaned in towards her, interest emanating from his eyes. “I guess we have that in common then. I knew your sister was in the Circle Tower. Duncan told me as much before he left to recruit the two of you, so obviously you’ve been separated for a long time. Was that hard?”

Miriel reflected quietly on Alistair’s question. Had it been hard to be separated from her sister? Until a few days ago, she didn’t even know her sister was still alive. Dealing with Tamryn’s “death” had been difficult, but the grieving process had healed much of that ache years before. If the separation was hard on anyone, Miriel was sure it was harder on Tamryn, who had known her family was alive but thought they had abandoned her. She clenched her fists as she thought of the pain her parents’ decision had caused all of them. Duncan had told them to leave the past in the past, but with each new revelation about her family’s secrets, Miriel found it more difficult to ignore the lies and move forward.

“I guess you could say that,” she finally answered. She could tell Alistair wanted to hear more, but she didn’t feel like divulging such close information yet. Maybe in time, she would learn that Alistair was trustworthy and more than just a kind, pleasant face, but for now, her secrets were her own.

To his credit, Alistair didn’t push her any farther than she wanted to go.

“At least you’re willing to talk to me,” he said with that grin Miriel was beginning to grow fond of. “I get the feeling your sister doesn’t like me very much.”

“From the brief conversations we had today, it appears you are a templar,” Miriel reminded him as she turned to face him, leaning with one arm on the wall. “And she’s a mage. I don’t really know what her experiences in the Circle were like, but I don’t believe that templars and mages are generally on good terms.”

“That’s just unfair,” Alistair replied, pouting slightly. “I’m not _really_ a templar.”

“What do you mean?”

“Duncan recruited me before I took my vows. I trained as one, but I never became a full templar. In fact, you should tell your sister that I actually hated it in the Chantry.”

“Oh, I should, should I? Are you sweet on my sister, Ser Alistair?” Miriel teased. “Are you hoping to win her favor through me?”

“No, of course not!” Alistair’s face had that same embarrassed look from before and Miriel enjoyed every second of it. When he reached up to scratch the back of his neck again, she struggled to hide a chuckle under her breath.

“By the lost Dales, whyever not?” Miriel pressed. “She’s very pretty.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Alistair said, smiling and pointing a finger at her as he struggled to hide his embarrassment. “Any man with eyes would notice that she’s beautiful. She looks just like you!”

Miriel had prepared another smart remark to tease Alistair some more, but found that the heat rising up the back of her neck at his last blurted comment was too distracting to focus.

 _What is this?_ she scolded herself. _There must be something wrong with me. He is pleasant enough to talk to, but I barely know this man. Besides, he’s a human...._

“I mean, what I was trying to say,” Alistair said, coughing into his hand before he continued, “is that since we’re all going to be working together to end this Blight, I would hate for you -- or your sister -- to dislike me. It will just make the whole thing very...unpleasant. And I really hate unpleasantness. If you could put a good word in for me, despite my ex-templar status, I think it would help us all.”

“I understand,” Miriel said quietly, still struggling to process the entire strange conversation. “I’ll do what I can.”

“Right,” Alistair nodded and motioned toward the camp. “Well, I should probably turn in for the night. We have an early morning traipsing through the Wilds tomorrow. Who knows what we will encounter out there.”

“Hopefully some darkspawn so we can complete this ritual,” Miriel reminded him as she fell into step next to him.

“There is that,” he said with that sideways grin. They stopped just in front of the tent Miriel shared with Tamryn.

“Thank you for the biscuit,” Miriel said with a smile.

“Of course.” Alistair shrugged. “As I said, just following orders.”

“Thank you all the same.”

“Good night, Miriel.”

He said her name softer than he had said everything else to her tonight. Miriel wasn’t quite sure what to make of that, but she couldn’t control the slight shiver down her spine at the sound of it.

“Good night, Alistair.”

She didn’t hesitate for another moment, ducking into her tent and letting out a long breath before she realized the tent was occupied. She nearly jumped at the dark silhouette of her sister, already spread out on her bedroll.

“How was your time with Wynne?” Miriel asked quickly, hoping to avoid what she was sure would be an awkward conversation with her sister if Tamryn had heard any of the last bits of her exchange with Alistair outside the tent.

“It was...very nice,” Tamryn replied slowly. “It was good to see her.”

Miriel nodded approvingly. “I’m glad you were able to find her here. I know you’ve had a lot on your mind.”

The tent was silent for a few moments as Miriel found her bedroll in the dim light from the nearby fire outside. She was very anxious for Tamryn to open up to her, but she also didn’t want to push her sister. Clearly, even now, Tamryn still wasn’t ready to talk about her experiences. Miriel failed to repress a sigh as she dropped down onto her back on the bedroll.

“So,” Tamryn said in the darkness, but Miriel could hear the smile in her voice. “That templar -- what’s his name?”

“Alistair,” Miriel responded as she plopped down on her bedroll, pursing her lips as she realized the conversation was unavoidable at this point.

“Ah, yes, Alistair. Did the two of you have a nice chat? And what was that about a biscuit?”

“Alistair thought I didn’t eat much at supper, I suppose,” Miriel said, a bit confused by the whole evening. “I’m not really sure what to make of it, actually. He’s...a very strange human. I don’t know how else to describe him.”

She could feel Tamryn nod next to her.

“Templars. You never can know what to make of them.”

Miriel picked up on a slight edge to Tamryn’s voice that hadn’t been present before. Her hair bristled at the thought that templars might have been unkind to her sister while she was in the Circle Tower for all those years.

“They’re not all bad, though,” Tamryn concluded, interrupting Miriel’s nightmarish thoughts. She cocked her head to the side as she lay down next to her sister. That was not what she expected Tamryn to say after the way her voice had changed just a moment before. She desperately wanted to ask her sister what she meant, but she knew better.

“For what it’s worth,” Miriel said, remembering Alistair’s plea, “Alistair wished for me to tell you that he is not a templar. He never took his vows.”

“He wished for you to tell me that, did he?” Tamryn chuckled. “Whatever for?”

“He doesn’t want you to dislike him. We have to work together after all.”

“Right,” Tamryn smirked. “I’m sure that’s the reason.” Miriel heard her sister shuffling on the bedroll next to her as she rolled over. “He’s going to have to do a lot better than that if he wants me to approve of him for your sake.”

“It’s not for my sake. It’s--”

“Of course, of course. I know. It’s for the good of our little party. For the Wardens and all that, right?”

Miriel heard Tamryn chuckle lightly.

“I think we should both get some sleep, Miri. It’s been a long day, and tomorrow will prove to be another long one, what with this Joining ritual and hunting darkspawn.”

“Of course. Good night, Tamryn.”

But as Miriel listened to her sister snore softly, she found that the last picture in her mind, the one that she could not get out of her head, was that sheepish, half smile on Alistair’s face.

_Such a strange human..._


End file.
